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WILLIAM  GRAHAM  SUMNER 
(1895) 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 
AND  OTHER  ESSAYS 


THE 

CHALLENGE  OF   FACTS 

AND 

OTHER   ESSAYS 


BY 

WILLIAM  GRAHAM  SUMNER 

EDITED   BY 

ALBERT  GALLOWAY  KELLER 


NEW  HAVEN:  YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:  HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MDCCCCXIV 


COPYRIGHT,   1914 
BY   YALE   UNIVERSITY   PRESS 


Copyright,  1886,  by  The  Forum 

Copyright,  1886,  1887,  1890,  1891,  1902,  by  The  Independent 

G)pyright.  1887,  1889,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Company 

Copyright,  1901,  by  The  Macmillan  Company 

Copyright,  1904,  by  P.  F.  Collier  &  Son,  Inc. 

Copyright,  1905,  by  Longmans,  Green  &  Company 

Copyright,  1907,  by  The  Univeraty  of  Chicago  PreM 


riBBT    PUBLISBEO,    OCTOBER,    1914 
SECOND    PBIMTINO,    OCTOBEB,    1916 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

All  rights  on  the  essays  in  this  work  are  reserved  by 
the  holders  of  the  copyright.  The  PubHshers  named  in 
the  subjoined  Kst  are  the  proprietors,  either  in  their  own 
right,  or  as  agents  for  the  author  of  the  Essays  of  which 
the  titles  are  given  below,  and  of  which  the  ownership 
is  thus  specifically  noted.  The  Yale  University  Press 
makes  grateful  acknowledgment  to  the  Publishers  whose 
names  appear  below  for  their  courteous  permission  to 
include  in  the  present  work  the  Essays  of  which  they 
were  the  original  publishers. 

Yale  University  Press 

The  New  Haven  Palladium:  "For  President?"  The  Providence 
Evening  Press:  "Democracy  and  Responsible  Government."  The 
Chicago  Tribune:  "Republican  Government."  The  Forum:  "Indus- 
trial War."  The  Independent:  "The  Demand  for  Men,"  "The  Sig- 
nificance of  the  Demand  for  Men,"  "What  the  'Social  Question' 
Is,"  "What  Emancipates,"  "Power  and  Progress,"  "Consequences 
of  Increased  Social  Power,"  "What  is  the  'Proletariat?'"  "Who 
Win  by  Progress?"  "Federal  Legislation  on  Railroads,"  "Legisla- 
tion by  Clamor,"  "The  Shifting  of  Responsibility,"  "The  State  as 
an  'Ethical  Person,'"  "The  New  Social  Issue,"  "Speculative  Legis- 
lation," "The  Concentration  of  Wealth:  Its  Economic  Justification." 
Messrs.  D.  Appleton  &  Company:  "What  makes  the  Rich  Richer 
and  the  Poor  Poorer,"  "Sketch  of  William  Graham  Sumner."  The 
Reverend  Peter  Roberts  and  The  Macmillan  Company:  "  Foreword  to 
'The  Anthracite  Coal  Industry.'"  Messrs.  P.  F.  Collier  &  Son, 
Inc.:  "Reply  to  a  Socialist."  Professor  James  Elbert  Cutler  and 
Messrs.  Longmans,  Green,  &  Company:  "  Foreword  to  '  Lynch-Law.' " 
The  University  of  Chicago  Press:  "Sociology  as  a  College  Subject." 


PREFACE 

Of  the  essays  collected  in  this  volume  the  following  are, 
so  far  as  I  know,  now  printed  for  the  first  time:  the  title- 
essay,  "A  Parable,"  "Advancing  Social  and  Political 
Organization  in  the  United  States,"  the  "Memorial  Day 
Address,"  the  "  Introductory  Lecture  to  Courses  in  Politi- 
cal and  Social  Science,"  and  "The  Predicament  of  Soci- 
ological Study."  The  titles  of  the  first  and  last  of  these  are 
not  the  ones  which  stood  on  the  manuscripts.  The  first  was 
called  "Socialism,"  but  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  re- 
naming it  in  order  to  give  both  to  it  and  to  this  volume  a 
more  distinctive  title.  The  last  was  headed  "Sociology" 
and  required  to  be  distinguished  from  the  essay  on  Soci- 
ology in  "War  and  Other  Essays."  The  long  essay  on 
"  Organization  in  the  United  States  "  is  a  find  which  should 
rejoice  at  least  those  former  students  of  Sumner  who 
pursued  the  study  of  American  history  with  him.  I 
should  add  to  this  list  of  new  material  the  Memorial 
Addresses,  which  were  included  at  request;  that  of  Mr. 
Baldwin,  however,  has  already  been  pubhshed  among  the 
records  of  the  Yale  class  of  1885. 

The  presence  of  new  Sumner  essays  in  this  volume,  as 
in  preceding  ones,  bears  witness  to  the  author's  habit  of 
withholding  his  writings  from  publication.  Though  I  knew 
of  this  tendency  I  have  been  astonished  at  the  amount, 
and  also  at  the  degree  of  elaboration,  of  the  written  manu- 
script found  among  his  literary  effects.  Manuscripts 
were  written  and  re-written,  and  then  laid  aside,  appar- 
ently with  no  thought  of  publication.  Meanwhile  the 
eager  mind  of  the  author  pressed  on  to  other  ranges,  and 


viii  PREFACE 

time  had  its  way  with  the  work  of  his  hand.  Often  it  is 
from  yellowing  sheets  that  we  have  been  able  to  present 
what  here  appears  in  print  for  the  first  time. 

Perhaps  Sumner  would  have  made  changes  in  these 
unpublished  essays  before  they  were  allowed  to  fill  the 
printed  page;  he  may  have  had  some  conviction,  in  his 
scrupulous  self-criticism,  as  to  their  state  of  incomplete- 
ness. But  I  have  no  apology  for  publishing  them.  They 
can  stand  for  themselves.  Now  that  the  emending  hand 
is  still,  there  is  no  longer  any  hope  of  alteration  except 
of  inessential  detail,  and  so  no  \alid  reason  for  longer 
withholding  such  a  rare  and  characteristic  product. 

In  spite  of  the  fact,  then,  that  some  of  the  essays  in 
this  volume  have  not  received  the  author's  final  touches 
in  preparation  for  publication,  and  that  certain  of  them 
are  preserved  only  in  newspaper  reports  of  lectures, 
which  may  or  may  not  have  been  written  up  from  manu- 
script, the  editor  has  been  very  chary  about  making  any 
changes  except  those  which  were  obviously  necessary. 
Even  where  some  slight  repetition  appears  in  bringing  to- 
gether utterances  that  were  not  designed  to  be  together, 
I  have  thought  it  best  to  leave  things  as  they  stand. 
"Where  the  only  report  was  clearly  a  garbled  one,  as 
in  that  of  an  address  on  "  The  True  Aim  of  Life,"  given 
in  1880  before  the  Seniors  of  Yale  College,  I  have,  with 
great  regret,  discarded  the  production  altogether. 
Many  also  of  Professor  Sumner's  best  addresses  seem  to 
have  been  almost  extemporaneous;  nothing  remains  of 
these  except  small  packets  of  slips  with  items  of  a  more 
or  less  cryptic  nature  set  down  upon  them.  In  a  few 
instances  I  am  convinced  that  Sumner  later  changed  his 
position  as  to  certain  points;  but  I  could  scarcely  try 
to  alter  such  things.  From  his  later  writings  it  is  easy 
to  see   what  he  came  to  beheve.     In  general  I  have 


PREFACE  ix 

omitted  much  which  would  find  a  more  appropriate  place 
in  a  Life  and  Letters;  and  it  is  my  conviction  that 
such  an  enterprise  should  be  sometime  undertaken.  If 
well  done  it  could  not  but  inure  to  the  strengthening  of 
hearts. 

The  dating  of  several  of  these  essays  is  next  to  im- 
possible. Sometimes  the  only  clue  to  the  time  when 
they  were  written  lies  in  the  handwriting  or  the  style. 
I  judge,  on  these  criteria,  that  the  title-essay  and  "A 
Parable"  belong  to  the  eighties,  and  that  the  essay 
on  "The  Predicament  of  Sociological  Study"  is  rather 
late  —  within  a  few  years,  one  way  or  the  other,  of  1900. 

The  present  intention  of  the  publishers  and  editor  is 
to  bring  out  one  more  volume,  which  will  include  essays 
of  a  more  technical  character  and  will  contain  a  full  bib- 
liography of  Sumner's  writings,  in  so  far  as  such  can  now 
be  assembled.  This  volume  will  probably  be  delayed  for 
several  years,  in  order  to  close  the  series  definitively. 

ALBERT  GALLOWAY  KELLER. 
New  Haven,  September  17,  1914 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface vii 

Sketch  of  William  Graham  Sumner 1 

The  Challenge  of  Facts 15 

Reply  to  a  Socialist         53 

What  Makes  the  Rich  Richer  and  the  Poor  Poorer?  .  63 
The  Concentration  of  Wealth:   Its  Economic 

Justification 79 

Industrial  War 91 

A  Parable 103 

The  Demand  for  Men 100 

The  Significance  of  the  Demand  for  Men 117 

What  the  "Social  Question"  Is 125 

What  Emancipates 135 

Power  and  Progress 143 

Consequences  of  Increased  Social  Power 151 

What  is  the  "Proletariat"? 159 

Who  Win  by  Progress? 167 

Federal  Legislation  on  Railroads 175 

Legislation  by  Clamor 183 

The  Shifting  of  Responsibility 191 

The  State  as  an  "Ethical  Person" 199 

The  New  Social  Issue 205 

Speculative  Legislation 213 

Republican  Government 221 

Democracy  and  Responsible  Government 241 

Advancing   Social  and    Political   Organization   in   the 

United  States 287 

Memorial  Day  Address 345 

For  President? 363 

Foreword  to  "Lynch-Law" 381 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Foreword  to  "The  Anthracite  Coal  Industry"    .     ,     .  385 
Introductory    Lecture    to    Courses    in    Political   and 

Social  Science 389 

Sociology  as  a  College  Subject 405 

The  Predicament  of  Sociological  Study 413 

Memorial  Addresses 

By  Otto  T.  Bannard 429 

By  Henry  de  Forest  Baldwin 432 

By  Albert  Galloway  Keller 440 


SKETCH  OF  WILLIAM  GRAHAM  SUMNER 


SKETCH  OF  WILLIAM  GRAHAM  SUMNER » 

[1889] 

William  Graham  Sumner  was  bom  at  Paterson,  New 
Jersey,  October  30,  1840.  He  is  the  son  of  Thomas  Sum- 
ner, who  came  to  this  country  from  England  in  1836, 
and  married  here  Sarah  Graham,  also  of  English  birth. 
Thomas  Sumner  was  a  machinist,  who  worked  at  his 
trade  until  he  was  sixty  years  old,  and  never  had  any 
capital  but  what  he  saved  out  of  a  mechanic's  wages. 
He  was  an  entirely  self-educated  man,  but  always  pro- 
fessed great  obligations  to  mechanics'  institutes  and  other 
associations  of  the  kind,  of  whose  opportunities  he  had 
made  eager  use  in  England.  He  was  a  man  of  the 
strictest  integrity,  a  total  abstainer,  of  domestic  habits 
and  indefatigable  industry.  He  became  enthusiastic- 
ally interested  in  total  abstinence  when  a  young  man  in 
England,  the  method  being  that  of  persuasion  and  mis- 
sionary effort.  He  used  to  describe  his  only  attempt  to 
make  a  speech  in  public,  which  was  on  this  subject, 
when  he  completely  failed.  He  had  a  great  thirst  for 
knowledge,  and  was  thoroughly  informed  on  modern 
English  and  American  history  and  on  the  constitutional 
law  of  both  countries.  He  made  the  education  of  his 
children  his  chief  thought,  and  the  only  form  of  public 
affairs  in  which  he  took  an  active  interest  was  that  of 
schools.  His  contempt  for  demagogical  arguments  and 
for  all  the  notions  of  the  labor  agitators,  as  well  as  for 
the  entire  gospel  of  gush,  was  that  of  a  simple  man  with 

»  The  Popular  Science  Monthly,  Vol.  XXXV,  1889. 
[8] 


4  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

sturdy  common-sense,  who  had  never  been  trained  to 
entertain  any  kind  of  philosophical  abstractions.  His 
plan  was,  if  things  did  not  go  to  suit  him,  to  examine 
the  situation,  see  what  could  be  done,  take  a  new  start, 
and  try  again.  For  instance,  inasmuch  as  the  custom 
in  New  Jersey  was  store  pay,  and  he  did  not  like  store 
pay,  he  moved  to  New  England,  where  he  found  that  he 
could  get  cash.  He  had  decisive  influence  on  the  con- 
victions and  tastes  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 

Professor  Sumner  grew  up  at  Hartford,  Connecticut, 
and  was  educated  in  the  public  schools  of  that  city.  The 
High  School  was  then  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  T.  W.  T. 
Curtis,  and  the  classical  department  under  Mr.  S.  M. 
Capron.  These  teachers  were  equally  remarkable,  al- 
though in  different  ways,  for  their  excellent  influence 
on  the  pupils  under  their  care.  There  was  an  honesty 
and  candor  about  both  of  them  which  were  very  health- 
ful in  example.  They  did  very  little  "preaching," 
but  their  demeanor  was  in  all  respects  such  as  to  bear 
watching  with  the  scrutiny  of  school-children  and  only 
gain  by  it.  Mr.  Curtis  had  great  skill  in  the  catecheti- 
cal method,  being  able  to  lead  a  scholar  by  a  series  of 
questions  over  the  track  which  must  be  followed  to  come 
to  an  understanding  of  the  subject  under  discussion. 
Mr.  Capron  united  dignity  and  geniality  in  a  remarkable 
degree.  The  consequence  was  that  he  had  the  most 
admirable  discipline,  without  the  least  feeling  of  the  irk- 
someness  of  discipline  on  the  part  of  his  pupils.  On  the 
contrary,  he  possessed  their  tender  and  respectful 
affection.  Mr.  Capron  was  a  man  of  remarkably  few 
words,  and  he  was  a  striking  example  of  the  power  that 
may  go  forth  from  a  man  by  what  he  is  and  does  in  the 
daily  life  of  a  schoolroom.  Both  these  gentlemen  em- 
ployed in  the  schoolroom  all  the  best  methods  of  teaching 


SKETCH  OF  SUMNER  5 

now  so  much  gloried  in,  without  apparently  knowing 
that  they  had  any  peculiar  method  at  all.  Professor 
Sumner  has  often  declared  in  public  that,  as  a  teacher, 
he  is  deeply  indebted  to  the  sound  traditions  which  he 
derived  from  these  two  men. 

He  graduated  from  Yale  College  in  1863,  and  in  the 
summer  of  that  year  went  to  Europe.  He  spent  the 
winter  of  1863-1864  in  Geneva,  studying  French  and 
Hebrew  with  private  instructors.  He  was  at  Gottingen 
for  the  next  two  years,  studying  ancient  languages, 
history,  especially  church  history,  and  biblical  science. 
In  answer  to  some  questions.  Professor  Sumner  has 
replied  as  follows: 

"My  first  interest  in  political  economy  came  from  Harriet 
Martineau's  *  Illustrations  of  Political  Economy.'  I  came  upon 
these  by  chance,  in  the  library  of  the  Young  Men's  Institute 
at  Hartford,  when  I  was  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  old.  I  read 
them  all  through  with  the  greatest  avidity,  some  of  them 
three  or  four  times.  There  was  very  little  literature  at  that 
time  with  which  these  books  could  connect.  My  teachers 
could  not  help  me  any,  and  there  were  no  immediate  relations 
between  the  topics  of  these  books  and  any  public  interests  of 
the  time.  We  supposed  then  that  free  trade  had  sailed  out 
upon  the  smooth  sea,  and  was  to  go  forward  without  further 
difficulty,  so  that  what  one  learned  of  the  fallacies  of  protec- 
tion had  only  the  same  interest  as  what  one  learns  about  the 
fallacies  of  any  old  and  abandoned  error.  In  college  we  read 
and  recited  Wayland's  '  Political  Economy,'  but  I  believe  that 
my  conceptions  of  capital,  labor,  money,  and  trade,  were  all 
formed  by  those  books  which  I  read  in  my  boyhood.  In  college 
the  interest  was  turned  rather  on  the  political  than  on  the 
economic  element.  It  seemed  to  me  then,  however,  that  the 
war,  with  the  paper  money  and  the  high  taxation,  must  cer- 
tainly bring  about  immense  social  changes  and  social  problems, 
especially  making  the  rich  richer  and  the  poor  poorer,  and 


6  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

leaving  behind  us  the  old  ante-war  period  as  one  of  primitive 
simplicity  which  could  never  return.  I  used  to  put  this  notion 
into  college  compositions,  and  laid  the  foundation  in  that  way 
for  the  career  which  afterward  opened  to  me. 

"I  enjoyed  intensely  the  two  years  which  I  spent  at  Got- 
tingen.  I  had  the  sense  of  gaining  all  the  time  exactly  what 
I  wanted.  The  professors  whom  I  knew  there  seemed  to  me 
bent  on  seeking  a  clear  and  comprehensive  conception  of  the 
matter  under  study  (what  we  call  '  the  truth ')  without  regard 
to  any  consequences  whatever.  I  have  heard  men  elsewhere 
talk  about  the  nobility  of  that  spirit;  but  the  only  body  of 
men  whom  I  have  ever  known  who  really  lived  by  it,  sacrificing 
wealth,  political  distinction,  church  preferment,  popularity, 
or  anything  else  for  the  truth  of  science,  were  the  professors 
of  biblical  science  in  Germany.  That  was  precisely  the  range 
of  subjects  which  in  this  country  was  then  treated  with  a 
reserve  in  favor  of  tradition  which  was  prejudicial  to  every- 
thing which  a  scholar  should  value.  So  far  as  those  men  in- 
fected me  with  their  spirit,  they  have  perhaps  added  to  my 
usefulness  but  not  to  my  happiness.  They  also  taught  me 
rigorous  and  pitiless  methods  of  investigation  and  deduction. 
Their  analysis  was  their  strong  point.  Their  negative  attitude 
toward  the  poetic  element,  their  indifference  to  sentiment, 
even  religious  sentiment,  was  a  fault,  seeing  that  they  studied 
the  Bible  as  a  religious  book  and  not  for  philology  and  history 
only;  but  their  method  of  study  was  nobly  scientific,  and  was 
worthy  to  rank,  both  for  its  results  and  its  discipline,  with 
the  best  of  the  natural  science  methods.  I  sometimes  wonder 
whether  there  is  any  one  else  in  exactly  the  same  position  as 
I  am,  having  studied  biblical  science  with  the  Germans,  and 
then  later  social  science,  to  mark  the  striking  contrast  in 
method  between  the  two.  The  later  social  science  of  Germany 
is  the  complete  inversion  in  its  method  of  that  of  German 
philology,  classical  criticism,  and  biblical  science.  Its  sub- 
jection to  political  exigencies  works  upon  it  as  disastrously  as 
subjection  to  dogmatic  creeds  has  worked  upon  biblical  science 
in  this  country. 


SKETCH  OF  SUMNER  7 

"  I  went  over  to  Oxford  in  the  spring  of  1866.  Having  given 
up  all  my  time  in  Germany  to  German  books,  I  wanted  to  read 
English  literature  on  the  same  subjects.  I  expected  to  find 
it  rich  and  independent.  I  found  that  it  consisted  of  second- 
hand adaptation  of  what  I  had  just  been  studying.  I  was  then 
quite  thoroughly  Teutonized,  as  all  our  young  men  are  likely 
to  be  after  a  time  of  study  in  Germany.  I  had  not  undergone 
the  toning-down  process  which  is  necessary  to  bring  a  young 
American  back  to  common  sense,  and  I  underrated  the  real 
services  of  many  Englishmen  to  the  Bible  as  a  religious  book  — 
exactly  the  supplement  which  I  then  needed  to  my  German 
education.  Ullmann's  'Wesen  des  Christenthums,'  which  I 
had  read  at  Gottingen,  had  steadied  my  religious  faith,  and  I 
devoted  myself  at  Oxford  to  the  old  Anglican  divines  and  to 
the  standard  books  of  the  Anglican  communion.  The  only 
one  of  these  which  gave  me  any  pleasure  or  profit  was  Hooker's 
'Ecclesiastical  Polity.'  The  first  part  of  this  book  I  studied 
with  the  greatest  care,  making  an  analysis  of  it  and  reviewing 
it  repeatedly.  It  suited  exactly  those  notions  of  constitutional 
order,  adjustment  of  rights,  constitutional  authority,  and 
historical  continuity,  in  which  I  had  been  brought  up,  and  it 
presented  those  doctrines  of  liberty  under  law  applied  both  to 
church  and  state  which  commanded  my  enthusiastic  accept- 
ance. It  also  presented  Anglicanism  in  exactly  the  aspect 
in  which  it  was  attractive  to  me.  It  re-awakened,  however, 
all  my  love  for  political  science,  which  was  intensified  by  read- 
ing Buckle  and  also  by  another  fact  next  to  be  mentioned. 

"The  most  singular  contrast  between  Gottingen  and  Oxford 
was  this:  at  Gottingen  everything  one  got  came  from  the 
university,  nothing  from  one's  fellow-students.  At  Oxford 
it  was  not  possible  to  get  anything  of  great  value  from  the 
university;  but  the  education  one  could  get  from  one's  fellows 
was  invaluable.  There  was  a  set  of  young  fellows,  or  men 
reading  for  fellowships,  there  at  that  time,  who  were  studying 
Hegel.  I  became  intimate  with  several  of  them.  Two  or 
three  of  them  have  since  died  at  an  early  age,  disappointing 
hopes  of  useful  careers.     I  never  caught  the  Hegelian  fever. 


8  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

I  had  heard  Lotze  at  Gottingen,  and  found  his  suggestions  very 
convenient  to  hold  on  by,  at  least  for  the  time.  We  used, 
however,  in  our  conversations  at  Oxford,  to  talk  about  Buckle 
and  the  ideas  which  he  had  then  set  afloat,  and  the  question 
which  occupied  us  the  most  was  whether  there  could  be  a 
science  of  society,  and,  if  so,  where  it  should  begin  and  how  it 
should  be  built.  We  had  all  been  eager  students  of  what  was 
then  called  the  *  philosophy  of  history,'  and  I  had  also  felt 
great  interest  in  the  idea  of  God  in  history,  with  which  my  com- 
panions did  not  sympathize.  We  agreed,  however,  that  social 
science  must  be  an  induction  from  history,  that  Buckle  had 
started  on  the  right  track,  and  that  the  thing  to  do  was  to 
study  history.  The  difficulty  which  arrested  us  was  that  we 
did  not  see  how  the  mass  of  matter  to  be  collected  and  arranged 
could  ever  be  so  mastered  that  the  induction  could  actually  be 
performed  if  the  notion  of  an  '  induction  from  history '  should 
be  construed  strictly.  Young  as  we  were,  we  never  took  up  this 
crude  notion  as  a  real  program  of  work.  I  have  often  thought 
of  it  since,  when  I  have  seen  the  propositions  of  that  sort 
which  have  been  put  forward  within  twenty  years.  I  have 
lost  sight  of  all  my  associates  at  Oxford  who  are  still  living. 
So  far  as  I  know,  I  am  the  only  one  of  them  who  has  become 
professionally  occupied  with  social  science." 

Mr.  Sumner  returned  to  the  United  States  in  the 
autumn  of  1866,  having  been  elected  to  a  tutorship  in 
Yale  College.     Of  this  he  says: 

"The  tutorship  was  a  great  advantage  to  me.  I  had  ex- 
pected to  go  to  Egypt  and  Palestine  in  the  next  winter,  but 
this  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  study  further,  and  to  acquaint 
myself  with  church  aflFairs  in  the  United  States  before  a  final 
decision  as  to  a  profession.  I  speedily  found  that  there  was 
no  demand  at  all  for  'biblical  science';  that  everybody  was 
afraid  of  it,  especially  if  it  came  with  the  German  label  on  it. 
It  was  a  case  in  which,  if  a  man  should  work  very  hard  and 
achieve  remarkable  results,  the  only  consequence  would  be 


SKETCH  OF  SUMNER  9 

that  he  would  ruin  himself.  At  this  time  I  undertook  the 
translation  of  the  volume  of  Lange's  *  Commentary  on  Second 
Kings.'  While  I  was  tutor  I  read  Herbert  Spencer's  'First 
Principles '  —  at  least  the  first  part  of  it  —  but  it  made  no 
impression  upon  me.  The  second  part,  as  it  dealt  with  evolu- 
tion, did  not  then  interest  me.  I  also  read  his  '  Social  Statics ' 
at  that  period.  As  I  did  not  believe  in  natural  rights,  or  in 
his  *  fundamental  principle,'  this  book  had  no  effect  on  me." 

Mr.  Sumner  was  ordained  deacon  at  New  Haven  in 
December,  1867,  and  priest  at  New  York,  July,  1869. 
He  became  assistant  to  Dr.  Washburn  at  Calvary 
Church,  New  York,  in  March,  1869.  He  was  also  editor 
of  a  Broad  Church  paper,  which  Dr.  Washburn  and  some 
other  clergymen  started  at  this  time.  In  September, 
1870,  he  became  rector  of  the  Church  of  the  Redeemer 
at  Morristown,  New  Jersey. 

"When  I  came  to  write  sermons,  1  found  to  what  a  degree  my 
interest  lay  in  topics  of  social  science  and  political  economy. 
There  was  then  no  public  interest  in  the  currency  and  only  a 
little  in  the  tariff.  I  thought  that  these  were  matters  of  the 
most  urgent  importance,  which  threatened  all  the  interests, 
moral,  social,  and  economic,  of  the  nation;  and  I  was  young 
enough  to  believe  that  they  would  all  be  settled  in  the  next 
four  or  five  years.  It  was  not  possible  to  preach  about  them, 
but  I  got  so  near  to  it  that  I  was  detected  sometimes,  as,  for 
instance,  when  a  New  Jersey  banker  came  to  me,  as  I  came 
down  from  the  pulpit,  and  said,  'There  was  a  great  deal  of 
political  economy  in  that  sermon.' 

"It  was  at  this  period  that  I  read,  in  an  English  magazine, 
the  first  of  those  essays  of  Herbert  Spencer  which  were  after- 
ward collected  into  the  volume  'The  Study  of  Sociology.* 
These  essays  immediately  gave  me  the  lead  which  I  wanted, 
to  bring  into  shape  the  crude  notions  which  had  been  floating 
in  my  head  for  five  or  six  years,  especially  since  the  Oxford 
days.     The  conception  of  society,  of  social  forces,  and  of  the 


10  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

science  of  society  there  offered  was  just  the  one  which  I  had 
been  groping  after  but  had  not  been  able  to  reduce  for  myself. 
It  solved  the  old  difficulty  about  the  relation  of  social  science 
to  history,  rescued  social  science  from  the  dominion  of  the 
cranks,  and  offered  a  definite  and  magnificent  field  for  work, 
from  which  we  might  hope  at  last  to  derive  definite  results  for 
the  solution  of  social  problems. 

"It  was  at  this  juncture  (1872)  that  I  was  offered  the  chair 
of  Political  and  Social  Science  at  Yale.  I  had  always  been 
very  fond  of  teaching  and  knew  that  the  best  work  I  could 
ever  do  in  the  world  would  be  in  that  profession;  also,  that 
I  ought  to  be  in  an  academical  career.  I  had  seen  two  or  three 
cases  of  men  who,  in  that  career,  would  have  achieved  dis- 
tinguished usefulness,  but  who  were  wasted  in  the  parish  and 
the  pulpit." 

Mr.  Sumner  returned  to  New  Haven  as  professor  in 
September,  1872.  Of  the  further  development  of  his 
opinions  he  says: 

"I  was  definitely  converted  to  evolution  by  Professor 
Marsh's  horses  some  time  about  1875  or  1876.  I  had  re-read 
Spencer's  '  Social  Statics '  and  his  'First  Principles,'  the  second 
part  of  the  latter  now  absorbing  all  my  attention.  I  now  read 
all  of  Darwin,  Huxley,  Haeckel,  and  quite  a  series  of  the  natu- 
ral scientists.  I  greatly  regretted  that  I  had  no  education  in 
natural  science,  especially  in  biology;  but  I  found  that  the 
*  philosophy  of  history '  and  the  '  principles  of  philology,'  as  I 
had  learned  them,  speedily  adjusted  themselves  to  the  new 
conception,  and  won  a  new  meaning  and  power  from  it.  As 
Spencer's  'Principles  of  Sociology*  was  now  coming  out  in 
numbers,  I  was  constantly  getting  evidence  that  sociology,  if 
it  borrowed  the  theory  of  evolution  in  the  first  place,  would 
speedily  render  it  back  again  enriched  by  new  and  independ- 
ent evidence.  I  formed  a  class  to  read  Spencer's  book  in  the 
parts  as  they  came  out,  and  believe  that  I  began  to  interest 
men  in  this  important  department  of  study,  and  to  prepare 


SKETCH  OF  SUMNER  11 

them  to  follow  its  development,  years  before  any  such  attempt 
was  made  at  any  other  university  in  the  world.  I  have  fol- 
lowed the  growth  of  the  science  of  sociology  in  all  its  branches 
and  have  seen  it  far  surpass  all  the  hope  and  faith  I  ever  had 
in  it.  I  have  spent  an  immense  amount  of  work  on  it,  which 
has  been  lost  because  misdirected.  The  only  merit  I  can 
claim  in  that  respect  is  that  I  have  corrected  my  own  mistakes. 
I  have  not  published  them  for  others  to  correct." 

The  above  statement  of  the  history  of  Professor 
Sumner's  education  shows  the  school  of  opinion  to  which 
he  belongs.  He  adopts  the  conception  of  society  accord- 
ing to  which  it  is  the  seat  of  forces,  and  its  phenomena 
are  subject  to  laws  which  it  is  the  business  of  science  to 
investigate.  He  denies  that  there  is  anything  arbitrary 
or  accidental  in  social  phenomena,  or  that  there  is  any 
field  in  them  for  the  arbitrary  intervention  of  man. 
He  therefore  allows  but  very  limited  field  for  legisla- 
tion. He  holds  that  men  must  do  with  social  laws 
what  they  do  with  physical  laws  —  learn  them,  obey 
them,  and  conform  to  them.  Hence  he  is  opposed  to 
state  interference  and  socialism,  and  he  advocates  in- 
dividualism and  liberty.  He  has  declared  that  bimet- 
allism is  an  absurdity,  involving  a  contradiction  of 
economic  laws,  and  his  attacks  on  protectionism  have 
been  directed  against  it  as  a  philosophy  of  wealth  and 
prosperity  for  the  nation.     As  to  politics  he  says: 

"My  only  excursion  into  active  politics  has  been  a  term  as 
alderman.  In  1872  I  was  one  of  the  voters  who  watched  with 
interest  and  hope  the  movement  which  led  up  to  the  'Liberal* 
Convention  at  Cincinnati,  that  ended  by  nominating  Greeley 
and  Brown.  The  platform  of  that  convention  was  very  out- 
spoken in  its  declarations  about  the  policy  to  be  pursued 
toward  the  South.  I  did  not  approve  of  the  reconstruction 
poUcy.     I  wanted  the  South  let  alone  and  treated  with  pa- 


12  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tience.  I  lost  my  vote  by  moving  to  New  Haven,  and  was 
contented  to  let  it  go  that  way.  In  1876  I  was  of  the  same 
opinion  about  the  South.  If  I  had  been  asked  what  I  wanted 
done,  I  should  have  tried  to  describe  just  what  Mr.  Hayes 
did  do  after  he  got  in.  I  therefore  voted  for  Mr.  Tilden  for 
President.  In  1880  I  did  not  vote.  In  1884  I  voted  as  a 
Mugwump  for  Mr.  Cleveland.  In  1888  I  voted  for  him  on 
the  tariflF  issue." 

A  distinguished  American  economist,  who  is  well 
acquainted  with  Professor  Sumner's  work,  has  kindly 
given  us  the  following  estimate  of  his  method  and 
of    his   position    and    influence    as   a   public    teacher: 

"For  exact  and  comprehensive  knowledge  Professor  Sumner 
is  entitled  to  take  the  first  place  in  the  ranks  of  American 
economists;  and  as  a  teacher  he  has  no  superior.  His  leading 
mental  characteristic  he  has  himself  well  stated  in  describing 
the  characteristics  of  his  former  teachers  at  Grottingen;  namely, 
as  '  bent  on  seeking  a  clear  and  comprehensive  conception  of 
the  matter  or  "truth"  under  study,  without  regard  to  any 
consequences  whatever,'  and  further,  when  in  his  own  mind 
Professor  Sumner  is  fully  satisfied  as  to  what  the  truth  is,  he 
has  no  hesitation  in  boldly  declaring  it,  on  every  fitting  occa- 
sion, without  regard  to  consequences.  If  the  theory  is  a 
*  spade,'  he  calls  it  a  spade,  and  not  an  implement  of  hus- 
bandry. Sentimentalists,  followers  of  precedent  because  it  is 
precedent,  and  superficial  reasoners  find  little  favor,  therefore, 
with  Professor  Sumner;  and  this  trait  of  character  has  given 
him  a  reputation  for  coldness  and  lack  of  what  may  be  called 
*humanitarianism,'  and  has  rendered  one  of  his  best  essays, 
*What  Social  Classes  Owe  to  Each  Other,'  almost  repulsive  in 
respect  to  some  of  its  conclusions.  At  the  same  time,  the 
representatives  of  such  antagonisms,  if  they  are  candid,  must 
admit  that  Professor  Sumner's  logic  can  only  be  resisted  by 
making  their  reason  subordinate  to  sentiment.  Professor 
Sunmer  is  an  earnest  advocate  of  the  utmost  freedom  in  re- 


SKETCH  OF  SUMNER  13 

spect  to  all  commercial  exchanges;  and  the  results  of  his  ex- 
periences in  the  discussion  of  the  relative  merits  and  advan- 
tages of  the  systems  of  free  trade  and  protection  have  been 
such  that  probably  no  defender  of  the  latter  would  now  be 
willing  to  meet  him  in  a  public  discussion  of  these  topics." 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS » 

Socialism  is  no  new  thing.  In  one  form  or  another 
it  is  to  be  found  throughout  all  history.  It  arises  from 
an  observation  of  certain  harsh  facts  in  the  lot  of  man  on 
earth,  the  concrete  expression  of  which  is  poverty  and 
misery.  These  facts  challenge  us.  It  is  folly  to  try  to 
shut  our  eyes  to  them.  We  have  first  to  notice  what 
they  are,  and  then  to  face  them  squarely. 

Man  is  born  under  the  necessity  of  sustaining  the 
existence  he  has  received  by  an  onerous  struggle  against 
nature,  both  to  win  what  is  essential  to  his  life  and  to 
ward  off  what  is  prejudicial  to  it.  He  is  born  under  a 
burden  and  a  necessity.  Nature  holds  what  is  essential 
to  him,  but  she  offers  nothing  gratuitously.  He  may 
win  for  his  use  what  she  holds,  if  he  can.  Only  the  most 
meager  and  inadequate  supply  for  human  needs  can  be 
obtained  directly  from  nature.  There  are  trees  which 
may  be  used  for  fuel  and  for  dwellings,  but  labor  is 
required  to  fit  them  for  this  use.  There  are  ores  in  the 
ground,  but  labor  is  necessary  to  get  out  the  metals  and 
make  tools  or  weapons.  For  any  real  satisfaction, 
labor  is  necessary  to  fit  the  products  of  nature  for 
human  use.  In  this  struggle  every  individual  is  under 
the  pressure  of  the  necessities  for  food,  clothing,  shelter, 
fuel,  and  every  individual  brings  with  him  more  or  less 
energy  for  the  conflict  necessary  to  supply  his  needs. 
The  relation,  therefore,  between  each  man's  needs  and 
each  man's  energy,  or  "individualism,"  is  the  first  fact 
of  human  life. 

^  For  appfoximate  date,  see  preface. 

[17] 


18  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

It  is  not  without  reason,  however,  that  we  speak  of 
a  "man"  as  the  individual  in  question,  for  women 
(mothers)  and  children  have  special  disabilities  for  the 
struggle  with  nature,  and  these  disabilities  grow  greater 
and  last  longer  as  civilization  advances.  The  perpetua- 
tion of  the  race  in  health  and  vigor,  and  its  success  as 
a  whole  in  its  struggle  to  expand  and  develop  human 
life  on  earth,  therefore,  require  that  the  head  of  the 
family  shall,  by  his  energy,  be  able  to  supply  not  only 
his  own  needs,  but  those  of  the  organisms  which  are 
dependent  upon  him.  The  history  of  the  human  race 
shows  a  great  variety  of  experiments  in  the  relation  of 
the  sexes  and  in  the  organization  of  the  family.  These 
experiments  have  been  controlled  by  economic  cir- 
cumstances, but,  as  man  has  gained  more  and  more 
control  over  economic  circumstances,  monogamy  and 
the  family  education  of  children  have  been  more  and 
more  sharply  developed.  If  there  is  one  thing  in  regard 
to  which  the  student  of  history  and  sociology  can  aflBrm 
with  confidence  that  social  institutions  have  made 
"progress"  or  grown  "better,"  it  is  in  this  arrange- 
ment of  marriage  and  the  family.  All  experience  proves 
that  monogamy,  pure  and  strict,  is  the  sex  relation  which 
conduces  most  to  the  vigor  and  intelligence  of  the  race, 
and  that  the  family  education  of  children  is  the  institu- 
tion by  which  the  race  as  a  whole  advances  most  rapidly,, 
from  generation  to  generation,  in  the  struggle  with 
nature.  Love  of  man  and  wife,  as  we  understand  it, 
is  a  modern  sentiment.  The  devotion  and  sacrifice  of 
parents  for  children  is  a  sentiment  which  has  been 
developed  steadily  and  is  now  more  intense  and  far 
more  widely  practiced  throughout  society  than  in 
earlier  times.  The  relation  is  also  coming  to  be  regarded 
in  a  light  quite  different  from  that  in  which  it  was 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  19 

formerly  viewed.  It  used  to  be  believed  that  the 
parent  had  unlimited  claims  on  the  child  and  rights  over 
him.  In  a  truer  view  of  the  matter,  we  are  coming  to 
see  that  the  rights  are  on  the  side  of  the  child  and  the 
duties  on  the  side  of  the  parent.  Existence  is  not  a 
boon  for  which  the  child  owes  all  subjection  to  the 
parent.  It  is  a  responsibility  assumed  by  the  parent 
towards  the  child  without  the  child's  consent,  and  the 
consequence  of  it  is  that  the  parent  owes  all  possible 
devotion  to  the  child  to  enable  him  to  make  his  existence 
happy  and  successful. 

The  value  and  importance  of  the  family  sentiments, 
from  a  social  point  of  view,  cannot  be  exaggerated. 
They  impose  self-control  and  prudence  in  their  most 
important  social  bearings,  and  tend  more  than  any 
other  forces  to  hold  the  individual  up  to  the  virtues 
which  make  the  sound  man  and  the  valuable  member 
of  society.  The  race  is  bound,  from  generation  to 
generation,  in  an  unbroken  chain  of  vice  and  penalty, 
virtue  and  reward.  The  sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited 
upon  the  children,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  health, 
vigor,  talent,  genius,  and  skill  are,  so  far  as  we  can 
discover,  the  results  of  high  physical  vigor  and  wise 
early  training.  The  popular  language  bears  witness 
to  the  universal  observation  of  these  facts,  although 
general  social  and  political  dogmas  have  come  into 
fashion  which  contradict  or  ignore  them.  There  is  no 
other  such  punishment  for  a  life  of  vice  and  self-indul- 
gence as  to  see  children  grow  up  cursed  with  the  penalties 
of  it,  and  no  such  reward  for  self-denial  and  virtue  as 
to  see  children  born  and  grow  up  vigorous  in  mind  and 
body.  It  is  time  that  the  true  import  of  these  observa- 
tions for  moral  and  educational  purposes  was  developed, 
and  it  may  well  be  questioned  whether  we  do  not  go 


20  THE  CHALLENGE  OF^  FACTS 

too  far  in  our  reticence  in  regard  to  all  these  matters 
when  we  leave  it  to  romances  and  poems  to  do  almost 
all  the  educational  work  that  is  done  in  the  way  of 
spreading  ideas  about  them.  The  defense  of  marriage 
and  the  family,  if  their  sociological  value  were  better 
understood,  would  be  not  only  instinctive  but  rational. 
The  struggle  for  existence  with  which  we  have  to  deal 
must  be  understood,  then,  to  be  that  of  a  man  for 
himself,  his  wife,  and  his  children. 

The  next  great  fact  we  have  to  notice  in  regard  to  the 
struggle  of  human  life  is  that  labor  which  is  spent  in  a 
direct  struggle  with  nature  is  severe  in  the  extreme  and 
is  but  slightly  productive.  To  subjugate  nature,  man 
needs  weapons  and  tools.  These,  however,  cannot  be 
won  unless  the  food  and  clothing  and  other  prime  and 
direct  necessities  are  supplied  in  such  amount  that  they 
can  be  consumed  while  tools  and  weapons  are  being 
made,  for  the  tools  and  weapons  themselves  satisfy  no 
needs  directly.  A  man  who  tills  the  ground  with  his 
fingers  or  with  a  pointed  stick  picked  up  without  labor 
will  get  a  small  crop.  To  fashion  even  the  rudest  spade 
or  hoe  will  cost  time,  during  which  the  laborer  must 
still  eat  and  drink  and  wear,  but  the  tool,  when  ob- 
tained, will  multiply  immensely  the  power  to  produce. 
Such  products  of  labor,  used  to  assist  production,  have 
a  function  so  peculiar  in  the  nature  of  things  that  we 
need  to  distinguish  them.  We  call  them  capital.  A 
lever  is  capital,  and  the  advantage  of  lifting  a  weight 
with  a  lever  over  lifting  it  by  direct  exertion  is  only  a 
feeble  illustration  of  the  power  of  capital  in  production. 
The  origin  of  capital  lies  in  the  darkness  before  history, 
and  it  is  probably  impossible  for  us  to  imagine  the  slow 
and  painful  steps  by  which  the  race  began^the  formation 
of  it.     Since  then  it  has  gone  on  rising  to  higher  and 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  «1 

higher  powers  by  a  ceaseless  involution,  if  I  may  use 
a  mathematical  expression.  Capital  is  labor  raised 
to  a  higher  power  by  being  constantly  multiplied  into 
itself.  Nature  has  been  more  and  more  subjugated 
by  the  human  race  through  the  power  of  capital, 
and  every  human  being  now  living  shares  the  im- 
proved status  of  the  race  to  a  degree  which  neither  he 
nor  any  one  else  can  measure,  and  for  which  he  pays 
nothing. 

Let  us  understand  this  point,  because  our  subject 
will  require  future  reference  to  it.  It  is  the  most  short- 
sighted ignorance  not  to  see  that,  in  a  civilized  com- 
munity, all  the  advantage  of  capital  except  a  small 
fraction  is  gratuitously  enjoyed  by  the  community. 
For  instance,  suppose  the  case  of  a  man  utterly  destitute 
of  tools,  who  is  trying  to  till  the  ground  with  a  pointed 
stick.  He  could  get  something  out  of  it.  If  now  he 
should  obtain  a  spade  with  which  to  till  the  ground,  let 
us  suppose,  for  illustration,  that  he  could  get  twenty 
times  as  great  a  product.  Could,  then,  the  owner  of  a 
spade  in  a  civilized  state  demand,  as  its  price,  from  the 
man  who  had  no  spade,  nineteen-twentieths  of  the 
product  which  could  be  produced  by  the  use  of  it? 
Certainly  not.  The  price  of  a  spade  is  fixed  by  the  sup- 
ply and  demand  of  products  in  the  community.  A 
spade  is  bought  for  a  dollar  and  the  gain  from  the  use 
of  it  is  an  inheritance  of  knowledge,  experience,  and  skill 
which  every  man  who  lives  in  a  civilized  state  gets  for 
nothing.  What  we  pay  for  steam  transportation  is  no 
trifle,  but  imagine,  if  you  can,  eastern  Massachusetts 
cut  off  from  steam  connection  with  the  rest  of  the  world, 
turnpikes  and  sailing  vessels  remaining.  The  cost  of 
food  would  rise  so  high  that  a  quarter  of  the  population 
would  starve  to  death  and  another  quarter  would  have 


82  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

to  emigrate.  To-day  every  man  here  gets  an  enormous 
advantage  from  the  status  of  a  society  on  a  level  of 
steam  transportation,  telegraph,  and  machinery,  for 
which  he  pays  nothing. 

So  far  as  I  have  yet  spoken,  we  have  before  us  the 
struggle  of  man  with  nature,  but  the  social  problems, 
strictly  speaking,  arise  at  the  next  step.  Each  man 
carries  on  the  struggle  to  win  his  support  for  himself, 
but  there  are  others  by  his  side  engaged  in  the  same 
struggle.  If  the  stores  of  nature  were  unlimited,  or  if 
the  last  unit  of  the  supply  she  offers  could  be  won  as 
easily  as  the  first,  there  would  be  no  social  problem. 
If  a  square  mile  of  land  could  support  an  indefinite 
number  of  human  beings,  or  if  it  cost  only  twice  as  much 
labor  to  get  forty  bushels  of  wheat  from  an  acre  as 
to  get  twenty,  we  should  have  no  social  problem.  If  a 
square  mile  of  land  could  support  millions,  no  one  would 
ever  emigrate  and  there  would  be  no  trade  or  com- 
merce. If  it  cost  only  twice  as  much  labor  to  get  forty 
bushels  as  twenty,  there  would  be  no  advance  in  the 
arts.  The  fact  is  far  otherwise.  So  long  as  the  popula- 
tion is  low  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  land,  on  a 
given  stage  of  the  arts,  life  is  easy  and  the  competition 
of  man  with  man  is  weak.  When  more  persons  are 
trying  to  live  on  a  square  mile  than  it  can  support,  on 
the  existing  stage  of  the  arts,  life  is  hard  and  the  com- 
petition of  man  with  man  is  intense.  In  the  former 
case,  industry  and  prudence  may  be  on  a  low  grade; 
the  penalties  are  not  severe,  or  certain,  or  speedy.  In 
the  latter  case,  each  individual  needs  to  exert  on  his  own 
behalf  every  force,  original  or  acquired,  which  he  can 
command.  In  the  former  case,  the  average  condition 
will  be  one  of  comfort  and  the  population  will  be  all 
nearly  on  the  average.     In  the  latter  case,  the  average 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  28 

condition  will  not  be  one  of  comfort,  but  the  population 
will  cover  wide  extremes  of  comfort  and  misery.  Each 
will  find  his  place  according  to  his  ability  and  his  effort. 
The  former  society  will  be  democratic;  the  latter  will 
be  aristocratic. 

The  constant  tendency  of  population  to  outstrip  the 
means  of  subsistence  is  the  force  which  has  distributed 
population  over  the  world,  and  produced  all  advance  in 
civilization.  To  this  day  the  two  means  of  escape  for 
an  overpopulated  country  are  emigration  and  an  advance 
in  the  arts.  The  former  wins  more  land  for  the  same 
people;  the  latter  makes  the  same  land  support  more 
persons.  If,  however,  either  of  these  means  opens  a 
chance  for  an  increase  of  population,  it  is  evident  that 
the  advantage  so  won  may  be  speedily  exhausted  if  the 
increase  takes  place.  The  social  difficulty  has  only 
undergone  a  temporary  amelioration,  and  when  the 
conditions  of  pressure  and  competition  are  renewed, 
misery  and  poverty  reappear.  The  victims  of  them 
are  those  who  have  inherited  disease  and  depraved 
appetites,  or  have  been  brought  up  in  vice  and  ignorance, 
or  have  themselves  yielded  to  vice,  extravagance,  idle- 
ness, and  imprudence.  In  the  last  analysis,  therefore, 
we  come  back  to  vice,  in  its  original  and  hereditary 
forms,  as  the  correlative  of  misery  and  poverty. 

The  condition  for  the  complete  and  regular  action 
of  the  force  of  competition  is  liberty.  Liberty  means 
the  security  given  to  each  man  that,  if  he  employs  his 
energies  to  sustain  the  struggle  on  behalf  of  himself  and 
those  he  cares  for,  he  shall  dispose  of  the  product  exclu- 
sively as  he  chooses.  It  is  impossible  to  know  whence 
any  definition  or  criterion  of  justice  can  be  derived,  if 
it  is  not  deduced  from  this  view  of  things;  or  if  it  is  not 
the  definition  of  justice  that  each  shall  enjoy  the  fruit  of 


M  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

his  own  labor  and  seK-denial,  and  of  injustice  that  the  idle 
and  the  industrious,  the  self-indulgent  and  the  self-deny- 
ing, shall  share  equally  in  the  product.  Aside  from  the 
a  priori  speculations  of  philosophers  who  have  tried  to 
make  equality  an  essential  element  in  justice,  the  human 
race  has  recognized,  from  the  earliest  times,  the  above 
conception  of  justice  as  the  true  one,  and  has  founded 
upon  it  the  right  of  property.  The  right  of  property, 
with  marriage  and  the  family,  gives  the  right  of 
bequest. 

Monogamic  marriage,  however,  is  the  most  exclusive 
of  social  institutions.  It  contains,  as  essential  prin- 
ciples, preference,  superiority,  selection,  devotion.  It 
would  not  be  at  all  what  it  is  if  it  were  not  for  these 
characteristic  traits,  and  it  always  degenerates  when 
these  traits  are  not  present.  For  instance,  if  a  man 
should  not  have  a  distinct  preference  for  the  woman  he 
married,  and  if  he  did  not  select  her  as  superior  to 
others,  the  marriage  would  be  an  imperfect  one  accord- 
ing to  the  standard  of  true  monogamic  marriage.  The 
family  under  monogamy,  also,  is  a  closed  group,  having 
special  interests  and  estimating  privacy  and  reserve  as 
valuable  advantages  for  family  development.  We  grant 
high  prerogatives,  in  our  society,  to  parents,  although 
our  observation  teaches  us  that  thousands  of  human 
beings  are  unfit  to  be  parents  or  to  be  entrusted  with 
the  care  of  children.  It  follows,  therefore,  from  the 
organization  of  marriage  and  the  family,  under  mo- 
nogamy, that  great  inequalities  must  exist  in  a  society 
based  on  those  institutions.  The  son  of  wise  parents 
cannot  start  on  a  level  with  the  son  of  foolish  ones,  and 
the  man  who  has  had  no  home  discipline  cannot  be 
equal  to  the  man  who  has  had  home  discipline.  If 
the  contrary  were  true,  we  could  rid  ourselves  at  once 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  25 

of  the  wearing  labor  of  inculcating  sound  morals  and 
manners  in  our  children. 

Private  property,  also,  which  we  have  seen  to  be  a 
feature  of  society  organized  in  accordance  with  the 
natural  conditions  of  the  struggle  for  existence  produces 
inequalities  between  men.  The  struggle  for  existence 
is  aimed  against  nature.  It  is  from  her  niggardly  hand 
that  we  have  to  wrest  the  satisfactions  for  our  needs, 
but  our  fellow-men  are  our  competitors  for  the  meager 
supply.  Competition,  therefore,  is  a  law  of  nature. 
Nature  is  entirely  neutral;  she  submits  to  him  who 
most  energetically  and  resolutely  assails  her.  She 
grants  her  rewards  to  the  fittest,  therefore,  without 
regard  to  other  considerations  of  any  kind.  If,  then, 
there  be  liberty,  men  get  from  her  just  in  proportion  to 
their  works,  and  their  having  and  enjoying  are  just  in 
proportion  to  their  being  and  their  doing.  Such  is  the 
system  of  nature.  If  we  do  not  like  it,  and  if  we  try  to 
amend  it,  there  is  only  one  way  in  which  we  can  do  it. 
We  can  take  from  the  better  and  give  to  the  worse. 
We  can  deflect  the  penalties  of  those  who  have  done 
ill  and  throw  them  on  those  who  have  done  better. 
We  can  take  the  rewards  from  those  who  have  done 
better  and  give  them  to  those  who  have  done  worse. 
We  shall  thus  lessen  the  inequalities.  We  shall  favor 
the  survival  of  the  unfittest,  and  we  shall  accomplish 
this  by  destroying  liberty.  Let  it  be  understood  that 
we  cannot  go  outside  of  this  alternative:  hberty,  in- 
equality, survival  of  the  fittest;  not-liberty,  equality, 
survival  of  the  unfittest.  The  former  carries  society 
forward  and  favors  all  its  best  members;  the  latter 
carries  society  downwards  and  favors  all  its  worst 
members. 

For  three  hundred  years  now  men  have  been  trying 


26  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

to  understand  and  realize  liberty.  Liberty  is  not  the 
right  or  chance  to  do  what  we  choose;  there  is  no  such 
liberty  as  that  on  earth.  No  man  can  do  as  he  chooses: 
the  autocrat  of  Russia  or  the  King  of  Dahomey  has 
limits  to  his  arbitrary  will;  the  savage  in  the  wilderness, 
whom  some  people  think  free,  is  the  slave  of  routine, 
tradition,  and  superstitious  fears;  the  civilized  man 
must  earn  his  living,  or  take  care  of  his  property,  or 
concede  his  own  will  to  the  rights  and  claims  of  his 
parents,  his  wife,  his  children,  and  all  the  persons  with 
whom  he  is  connected  by  the  ties  and  contracts  of 
civilized  life. 

What  we  mean  by  liberty  is  civil  liberty,  or  liberty 
under  law;  and  this  means  the  guarantees  of  law  that  a 
man  shall  not  be  interfered  with  while  using  his  own 
powers  for  his  own  welfare.  It  is,  therefore,  a  civil  and 
political  status;  and  that  nation  has  the  freest  institu- 
tions in  which  the  guarantees  of  peace  for  the  laborer 
and  security  for  the  capitalist  are  the  highest.  Liberty, 
therefore,  does  not  by  any  means  do  away  with  the 
struggle  for  existence.  We  might  as  well  try  to  do 
away  with  the  need  of  eating,  for  that  would,  in  effect, 
be  the  same  thing.  What  civil  liberty  does  is  to  turn 
the  competition  of  man  with  man  from  violence  and 
brute  force  into  an  industrial  competition  under  which 
men  vie  with  one  another  for  the  acquisition  of  material 
goods  by  industry,  energy,  skill,  frugality,  prudence, 
temperance,  and  other  industrial  virtues.  Under  this 
changed  order  of  things  the  inequalities  are  not  done 
away  with.  Nature  still  grants  her  rewards  of  having 
and  enjoying,  according  to  our  being  and  doing,  but 
it  is  now  the  man  of  the  highest  training  and  not 
the  man  of  the  heaviest  fist  who  gains  the  highest 
reward.     It  is  impossible   that  the  man  with  capital 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  27 

and  the  man  without  capital  should  be  equal.  To 
affirm  that  they  are  equal  would  be  to  say  that  a 
man  who  has  no  tool  can  get  as  much  food  out  of  the 
ground  as  the  man  who  has  a  spade  or  a  plough;  or 
that  the  man  who  has  no  weapon  can  defend  himself  as 
well  against  hostile  beasts  or  hostile  men  as  the  man 
who  has  a  weapon.  If  that  were  so,  none  of  us  would 
work  any  more.  We  work  and  deny  ourselves  to  get 
capital  just  because,  other  things  being  equal,  the  man 
who  has  it  is  superior,  for  attaining  all  the  ends  of  life, 
to  the  man  who  has  it  not.  Considering  the  eagerness 
with  which  we  all  seek  capital  and  the  estimate  we  put 
upon  it,  either  in  cherishing  it  if  we  have  it,  or  envying 
others  who  have  it  while  we  have  it  not,  it  is  very  strange 
what  platitudes  pass  current  about  it  in  our  society  so 
soon  as  we  begin  to  generalize  about  it.  If  our  young 
people  really  believed  some  of  the  teachings  they  hear, 
it  would  not  be  amiss  to  preach  them  a  sermon  once  in 
a  while  to  reassure  them,  setting  forth  that  it  is  not 
wicked  to  be  rich,  nay  even,  that  it  is  not  wicked  to  be 
richer  than  your  neighbor. 

It  follows  from  what  we  have  observed  that  it  is  the 
utmost  folly  to  denounce  capital.  To  do  so  is  to  under- 
mine civilization,  for  capntal  is  the  first  requisite  of 
every  social  gain,  educational,  ecclesiastical,  political, 
aesthetic,  or  other. 

It  must  also  be  noticed  that  the  popular  antithesis 
between  persons  and  capital  is  very  fallacious.  Every 
law  or  institution  which  protects  persons  at  the  expense 
of  capital  makes  it  easier  for  persons  to  live  and  to  in- 
crease the  number  of  consumers  of  capital  while  lowering 
all  the  motives  to  prudence  and  frugality  by  which 
capital  is  created.  Hence  every  such  law  or  institution 
tends  to  produce  a  large  population,  sunk  in  misery. 


28  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

All  poor  laws  and  all  eleemosynary  institutions  and 
expenditures  have  this  tendency.  On  the  contrary, 
all  laws  and  institutions  which  give  security  to  capital 
against  the  interests  of  other  persons  than  its  owners, 
restrict  numbers  while  preserving  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence. Hence  every  such  law  or  institution  tends  to 
produce  a  small  society  on  a  high  stage  of  comfort  and 
well-being.  It  follows  that  the  antithesis  commonly 
thought  to  exist  between  the  protection  of  persons  and 
the  protection  of  property  is  in  reality  only  an  antithesis 
between  numbers  and  quality 

I  must  stop  to  notice,  in  passing,  one  other  fallacy 
which  is  rather  scientific  than  popular.  The  notion  is 
attributed  to  certain  economists  that  economic  forces 
are  self -correcting.  I  do  not  know  of  any  economists 
who  hold  this  view,  but  what  is  intended  probably  is 
that  many  economists,  of  whom  I  venture  to  be  one, 
hold  that  economic  forces  act  compensatingly,  and  that 
whenever  economic  forces  have  so  acted  as  to  produce 
an  unfavorable  situation,  other  economic  forces  are 
brought  into  action  which  correct  the  evil  and  restore 
the  equilibrium.  For  instance,  in  Ireland  overpopula- 
tion and  exclusive  devotion  to  agriculture,  both  of  which 
are  plainly  traceable  to  unwise  statesmanship  in  the 
past,  have  produced  a  situation  of  distress.  Steam 
navigation  on  the  ocean  has  introduced  the  competition 
of  cheaper  land  with  Irish  agriculture.  The  result  is  a 
social  and  industrial  crisis.  There  are,  however,  millions 
of  acres  of  fertile  land  on  earth  which  are  unoccupied 
and  which  are  open  to  the  Irish,  and  the  economic  forces 
are  compelling  the  direct  corrective  of  the  old  evils,  in 
the  way  of  emigration  or  recourse  to  urban  occupations 
by  unskilled  labor.  Any  number  of  economic  and  legal 
nostrums  have  been  proposed  for  this  situation,  all  of 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  9» 

which  propose  to  leave  the  original  causes  untouched. 
We  are  told  that  economic  causes  do  not  correct  them- 
selves. That  is  true.  We  are  told  that  when  an  eco- 
nomic situation  becomes  very  grave  it  goes  on  from 
worse  to  worse  and  that  there  is  no  cycle  through  which 
it  returns.  That  is  not  true,  without  further  limita- 
tion. We  are  told  that  moral  forces  alone  can  elevate 
any  such  people  again.  But  it  is  plain  that  a  people 
which  has  sunk  below  the  reach  of  the  economic  forces 
of  self-interest  has  certainly  sunk  below  the  reach  of 
moral  forces,  and  that  this  objection  is  superficial  and 
short-sighted.  What  is  true  is  that  economic  forces 
always  go  before  moral  forces.  Men  feel  self-interest 
long  before  they  feel  prudence,  self-control,  and  temper- 
ance. They  lose  the  moral  forces  long  before  they  lose 
the  economic  forces.  If  they  can  be  regenerated  at  all, 
it  must  be  first  by  distress  appealing  to  self-interest  and 
forcing  recourse  to  some  expedient  for  relief.  Emigra- 
tion is  certainly  an  economic  force  for  the  relief  of  Irish 
distress.  It  is  a  palliative  only,  when  considered  in 
itself,  but  the  virtue  of  it  is  that  it  gives  the  non-emigrat- 
ing population  a  chance  to  rise  to  a  level  on  which  the 
moral  forces  can  act  upon  them.  Now  it  is  terribly 
true  that  only  the  better  ones  emigrate,  and  only  the 
better  ones  among  those  who  remain  are  capable  of 
having  their  ambition  and  energy  awakened,  but  for 
the  rest  the  solution  is  famine  and  death,  with  a  social 
regeneration  through  decay  and  the  elimination  of  that 
part  of  the  society  which  is  not  capable  of  being  restored 
to  health  and  life.  As  Mr.  Huxley  once  said,  the  method 
of  nature  is  not  even  a  word  and  a  blow,  with  the  blow 
first.  No  explanation  is  vouchsafed.  We  are  left  to 
find  out  for  ourselves  why  our  ears  are  boxed.  If  we 
do  not  find  out,  and  find  out  correctly,  what  the  error  is 


30  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

for  which  we  are  being  punished,  the  blow  is  repeated 
and  jxjverty,  distress,  disease,  and  death  finally  remove 
the  incorrigible  ones.  It  behooves  us  men  to  study 
these  terrible  illustrations  of  the  penalties  which  follow 
on  bad  statesmanship,  and  of  the  sanctions  by  which 
social  laws  are  enforced.  The  economic  cycle  does 
complete  itself;  it  must  do  so,  unless  the  social  group  is 
to  sink  in  permanent  barbarism.  A  law  may  be  passed 
which  shall  force  somebody  to  support  the  hopelessly 
degenerate  members  of  a  society,  but  such  a  law  can 
only  perpetuate  the  evil  and  entail  it  on  future  genera- 
tions with  new  accumulations  of  distress. 

The  economic  forces  work  with  moral  forces  and  are 
their  handmaidens,  but  the  economic  forces  are  far  more 
primitive,  original,  and  universal.  The  glib  generalities 
in  which  we  sometimes  hear  people  talk,  as  if  you  could 
set  moral  and  economic  forces  separate  from  and  in 
antithesis  to  each  other,  and  discard  the  one  to  accept 
and  work  by  the  other,  gravely  misconstrue  the  realities 
of  the  social  order. 

We  have  now  before  us  the  facts  of  human  life  out  of 
which  the  social  problem  springs.  These  facts  are  in 
many  respects  hard  and  stern.  It  is  by  strenuous 
exertion  only  that  each  one  of  us  can  sustain  himself 
against  the  destructive  forces  and  the  ever  recurring 
needs  of  life;  and  the  higher  the  degree  to  which  we 
seek  to  carry  our  development  the  greater  is  the  pro- 
portionate cost  of  every  step.  For  help  in  the  struggle 
we  can  only  look  back  to  those  in  the  previous  genera- 
tion who  are  responsible  for  our  existence.  In  the 
competition  of  life  the  son  of  wise  and  prudent  ances- 
tors has  immense  advantages  over  the  son  of  vicious  and 
imprudent  ones.  The  man  who  has  capital  possesses 
immeasurable  advantages  for  the  struggle  of  life  over 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  31 

him  who  has  none.  The  more  we  break  down  privi- 
leges of  class,  or  industry,  and  establish  liberty,  the 
greater  will  be  the  inequalities  and  the  more  exclusively 
will  the  vicious  bear  the  penalties.  Poverty  and  misery 
will  exist  in  society  just  so  long  as  vice  exists  in  human 
nature. 

I  now  go  on  to  notice  some  modes  of  trying  to  deal 
with  this  problem.  There  is  a  modern  philosophy 
which  has  never  been  taught  systematically,  but  which 
has  won  the  faith  of  vast  masses  of  people  in  the  modern 
civilized  world.  For  want  of  a  better  name  it  may 
be  called  the  sentimental  philosophy.  It  has  colored 
all  modern  ideas  and  institutions  in  politics,  religion, 
education,  charity,  and  industry,  and  is  widely  taught 
in  popular  literature,  novels,  and  poetry,  and  in  the 
pulpit.  The  first  proposition  of  this  sentimental  philoso- 
phy is  that  nothing  is  true  which  is  disagreeable.  If, 
therefore,  any  facts  of  observation  show  that  life  is 
grim  or  hard,  the  sentimental  philosophy  steps  over 
such  facts  with  a  genial  platitude,  a  consoling  common- 
place, or  a  gratifying  dogma.  The  effect  is  to  spread 
an  easy  optimism,  under  the  influence  of  which  people 
spare  themselves  labor  and  trouble,  reflection  and  fore- 
thought, pains  and  caution  —  all  of  which  are  hard 
things,  and  to  admit  the  necessity  for  which  would  be 
to  admit  that  the  world  is  not  all  made  smooth  and 
easy,  for  us  to  pass  through  it  surrounded  by  love, 
music,  and  flowers. 

Under  this  philosophy,  "progress"  has  been  repre- 
sented as  a  steadily  increasing  and  unmixed  good;  as 
if  the  good  steadily  encroached  on  the  evil  without 
involving  any  new  and  other  forms  of  evil;  and  as  if 
we  could  plan  great  steps  in  progress  in  our  academies 
and  lyceums,  and  then  realize  them  by  resolution.    To 


32  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

minds  trained  to  this  way  of  looking  at  things,  any- 
evil  which  exists  is  a  reproach.  We  have  only  to  con- 
sider it,  hold  some  discussions  about  it,  pass  resolutions, 
and  have  done  with  it.  Every  moment  of  delay  is, 
therefore,  a  social  crime.  It  is  monstrous  to  say  that 
misery  and  poverty  are  as  constant  as  vice  and  evil 
passions  of  men!  People  suffer  so  under  misery  and 
poverty!  Assuming,  therefore,  that  we  can  solve  all 
these  problems  and  eradicate  all  these  evils  by  expend- 
ing our  ingenuity  upon  them,  of  course  we  cannot 
hasten  too  soon  to  do  it. 

A  social  philosophy,  consonant  with  this,  has  also 
been  taught  for  a  century.  It  could  not  fail  to  be 
popular,  for  it  teaches  that  ignorance  is  as  good  as 
knowledge,  vulgarity  as  good  as  refinement,  shiftless- 
ness  as  good  as  painstaking,  shirking  as  good  as  faithful 
striving,  poverty  as  good  as  wealth,  filth  as  good  as 
cleanliness  —  in  short,  that  quality  goes  for  nothing  in 
the  measurement  of  men,  but  only  numbers.  Culture, 
knowledge,  refinement,  skill,  and  taste  cost  labor,  but 
we  have  been  taught  that  they  have  only  individual, 
not  social  value,  and  that  socially  they  are  rather  draw- 
backs than  otherwise.  In  public  life  we  are  taught  to 
admire  roughness,  illiteracy,  and  rowdyism.  The  igno- 
rant, idle,  and  shiftless  have  been  taught  that  they  are 
**the  people,"  that  the  generalities  inculcated  at  the 
same  time  about  the  dignity,  wisdom,  and  virtue  of 
"the  people"  are  true  of  them,  that  they  have  nothing 
to  learn  to  be  wise,  but  that,  as  they  stand,  they  possess 
a  kind  of  infallibility,  and  that  to  their  "opinion"  the 
wise  must  bow.  It  is  not  cause  for  wonder  if  whole 
sections  of  these  classes  have  begun  to  use  the 
powers  and  wisdom  attributed  to  them  for  their 
interests,  as  they  construe  them,  and  to  trample  on  all 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  83 

the  excellence  which  marks  civilization  as  on  obsolete 
superstition. 

Another  development  of  the  same  philosophy  is  the 
doctrine  that  men  come  into  the  world  endowed  with 
"natural  rights,"  or  as  joint  inheritors  of  the  "rights  of 
man,"  which  have  been  "declared"  times  without  num- 
ber during  the  last  century.  The  divine  rights  of  man 
have  succeeded  to  the  obsolete  divine  right  of  kings. 
If  it  is  true,  then,  that  a  man  is  born  with  rights,  he 
comes  into  the  world  with  claims  on  somebody  besides 
his  parents.  Against  whom  does  he  hold  such  rights? 
There  can  be  no  rights  against  nature  or  against  God. 
A  man  may  curse  his  fate  because  he  is  born  of  an 
inferior  race,  or  with  an  hereditary  disease,  or  blind,  or, 
as  some  members  of  the  race  seem  to  do,  because  they 
are  born  females;  but  they  get  no  answer  to  their 
imprecations.  But,  now,  if  men  have  rights  by  birth, 
these  rights  must  hold  against  their  fellow-men  and 
must  mean  that  somebody  else  is  to  spend  his  energy  to 
sustain  the  existence  of  the  persons  so  born.  What 
then  becomes  of  the  natural  rights  of  the  one  whose 
energies  are  to  be  diverted  from  his  own  interests?  If 
it  be  said  that  we  should  all  help  each  other,  that  means 
simply  that  the  race  as  a  whole  should  advance  and 
expand  as  much  and  as  fast  as  it  can  in  its  career  on 
earth;  and  the  experience  on  which  we  are  now  acting 
has  shown  that  we  shall  do  this  best  under  liberty  and 
under  the  organization  which  we  are  now  developing, 
by  leaving  each  to  exert  his  energies  for  his  own  success. 
The  notion  of  natural  rights  is  destitute  of  sense,  but 
it  is  captivating,  and  it  is  the  more  available  on  account 
of  its  vagueness.  It  lends  itself  to  the  most  vicious 
kind  of  social  dogmatism,  for  if  a  man  has  natural 
rights,  then  the  reasoning  is  clear  up  to  the  finished 


34  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

socialistic  doctrine  that  a  man  has  a  natural  right  to 
whatever  he  needs,  and  that  the  measure  of  his  claims 
is  the  wishes  which  he  wants  fulfilled.  If,  then,  he 
has  a  need,  who  is  bound  to  satisfy  it  for  him?  Who 
holds  the  obligation  corresponding  to  his  right?  It 
must  be  the  one  who  possesses  what  will  satisfy  that 
need,  or  else  the  state  which  can  take  the  possession 
from  those  who  have  earned  and  saved  it,  and  give  it 
to  him  who  needs  it  and  who,  by  the  hypothesis,  has 
not  earned  and  saved  it. 

It  is  with  the  next  step,  however,  that  we  come  to 
the  complete  and  ruinous  absurdity  of  this  view.  If  a 
man  may  demand  from  those  who  have  a  share  of 
what  he  needs  and  has  not,  may  he  demand  the  same 
also  for  his  wife  and  for  his  children,  and  for  how  many 
children?  The  industrious  and  prudent  man  who  takes 
the  course  of  labor  and  self-denial  to  secure  capital, 
finds  that  he  must  defer  marriage,  both  in  order  to  save 
and  to  devote  his  life  to  the  education  of  fewer,  children. 
The  man  who  can  claim  a  share  in  another's  product  has 
no  such  restraint.  The  consequence  would  be  that  the 
industrious  and  prudent  would  labor  and  save,  with- 
out families,  to  support  the  idle  and  improvident  who 
would  increase  and  multiply,  until  universal  destitution 
forced  a  return  to  the  principles  of  liberty  and  property; 
and  the  man  who  started  with  the  notion  that  the  world 
owed  him  a  living  would  once  more  find,  as  he  does 
now,  that  the  world  pays  him  its  debt  in  the  state 
prison. 

-  The  most  specious  application  of  the  dogma  of  rights 
is  to  labor.  It  is  said  that  every  man  has  a  right  to 
work.  The  world  is  full  of  work  to  be  done.  Those 
who  are  willing  to  work  find  that  they  have  three  days' 
work  to  do  in  every  day  that  comes.     Work  is  the 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  SS 

necessity  to  which  we  are  born.  It  is  not  a  right,  but 
an  irksome  necessity,  and  men  escape  it  whenever  they 
can  get  the  fruits  of  labor  without  it.  What  they  want 
is  the  fruits,  or  wages,  not  work.  But  wages  are  capital 
which  some  one  has  earned  and  saved.  If  he  and  the 
workman  can  agree  on  the  terms  on  which  he  will  part 
with  his  capital,  there  is  no  more  to  be  said.  If  not, 
then  the  right  must  be  set  up  in  a  new  form.  It  is  now 
not  a  right  to  work,  nor  even  a  right  to  wages,  but  a 
right  to  a  certain  rate  of  wages,  and  we  have  simply 
returned  to  the  old  doctrine  of  spoliation  again.  It  is 
immaterial  whether  the  demand  for  wages  be  addressed 
to  an  individual  capitalist  or  to  a  civil  body,  for  the 
latter  can  give  no  wages  which  it  does  not  collect  by 
taxes  out  of  the  capital  of  those  who  have  labored  and 
saved. 

Another  application  is  in  the  attempt  to  fix  the 
hours  of  labor  per  diem  by  law.  If  a  man  is  forbidden 
to  labor  over  eight  hours  per  day  (and  the  law  has  no 
sense  or  utility  for  the  purposes  of  those  who  want  it 
until  it  takes  this  form),  he  is  forbidden  to  exercise  so 
much  industry  as  he  may  be  willing  to  expend  in  order 
to  accumulate  capital  for  the  improvement  of  his  cir- 
cumstances. 

A  century  ago  there  were  very  few  wealthy  men 
except  owners  of  land.  The  extension  of  commerce, 
manufactures,  and  mining,  the  introduction  of  the 
factory  system  and  machinery,  the  opening  of  new 
countries,  and  the  great  discoveries  and  inventions 
have  created  a  new  middle  class,  based  on  wealth,  and 
developed  out  of  the  peasants,  artisans,  unskilled  la- 
borers, and  small  shop-keepers  of  a  century  ago.  The 
consequence  has  been  that  the  chance  of  acquiring 
capital  and  all  which  depends  on  capital  has  opened 


36  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

before  classes  which  formerly  passed  their  lives  in  a 
dull  round  of  ignorance  and  drudgery.  This  chance 
has  brought  with  it  the  same  alternative  which  accom- 
panies every  other  opportunity  offered  to  mortals. 
Those  who  were  wise  and  able  to  profit  by  the  chance 
succeeded  grandly;  those  who  were  negligent  or  unable 
to  profit  by  it  suffered  proportionately.  The  result  has 
been  wide  inequalities  of  wealth  within  the  industrial 
classes.  The  net  result,  however,  for  all,  has  been  the 
cheapening  of  luxuries  and  a  vast  extension  of  physi- 
cal enjoyment.  The  appetite  for  enjoyment  has  been 
awakened  and  nourished  in  classes  which  formerly  never 
missed  what  they  never  thought  of,  and  it  has  produced 
eagerness  for  material  good,  discontent,  and  impatient 
ambition.  This  is  the  reverse  side  of  that  eager  uprising 
of  the  industrial  classes  which  is  such  a  great  force  in 
modern  life.  The  chance  is  opened  to  advance,  by 
industry,  prudence,  economy,  and  emigration,  to  the 
possession  of  capital;  but  the  way  is  long  and  tedious. 
The  impatience  for  enjoyment  and  the  thirst  for  luxury 
which  we  have  mentioned  are  the  greatest  foes  to  the 
accumulation  of  capital;  and  there  is  a  still  darker  side 
to  the  picture  when  we  come  to  notice  that  those  who 
yield  to  the  impatience  to  enjoy,  but  who  see  others 
outstrip  them,  are  led  to  malice  and  envy.  Mobs 
arise  which  manifest  the  most  savage  and  senseless 
disposition  to  burn  and  destroy  what  they  cannot 
enjoy.  We  have  already  had  evidence,  in  more  than 
one  country,  that  such  a  wild  disposition  exists  and 
needs  only  opportunity  to  burst  into  activity. 

The  origin  of  socialism,  which  is  the  extreme  devel- 
opment of  the  sentimental  philosophy,  lies  in  the  un- 
disputed facts  which  I  described  at  the  outset.  The 
socialist  regards  this  misery  as  the  fault  of  society.     He 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  37 

thinks  that  we  can  organize  society  as  we  like  and  that 
an  organization  can  be  devised  in  which  poverty  and 
misery  shall  disappear.  He  goes  further  even  than 
this.  He  assumes  that  men  have  artificially  organized 
society  as  it  now  exists.  Hence  if  anything  is  disagree- 
able or  hard  in  the  present  state  of  society  it  follows, 
on  that  view,  that  the  task  of  organizing  society  has 
been  imperfectly  and  badly  performed,  and  that  it  needs 
to  be  done  over  again.  These  are  the  assumptions  with 
which  the  socialist  starts,  and  many  socialists  seem  also 
to  believe  that  if  they  can  destroy  belief  in  an  Almighty 
God  who  is  supposed  to  have  made  the  world  such  as 
it  is,  they  will  then  have  overthrown  the  belief  that 
there  is  a  fixed  order  in  human  nature  and  human  life 
which  man  can  scarcely  alter  at  all,  and,  if  at  all,  only 
infinitesimally.  ^ 

The  truth  is  that  the  social  order  is  fixed  by  laws  of 
nature  precisely  analogous  to  those  of  the  physical  order. 
The  most  that  man  can  do  is  by  ignorance  and  self- 
conceit  to  mar  the  operation  of  social  laws.  The  evils 
of  society  are  to  a  great  extent  the  result  of  the  dog- 
matism and  self-interest  of  statesmen,  philosophers, 
and  ecclesiastics  who  in  past  time  have  done  just  what 
the  socialists  now  want  to  do.  Instead  of  studying  the 
natural  laws  of  the  social  order,  they  assumed  that  they 
could  organize  society  as  they  chose,  they  made  up 
their  minds  what  kind  of  a  society  they  wanted  to  make, 
and  they  planned  their  little  measures  for  the  ends  they 
had  resolved  upon.  It  will  take  centuries  of  scientific 
study  of  the  facts  of  nature  to  eliminate  from  human 
society  the  mischievous  institutions  and  traditions 
which  the  said  statesmen,  philosophers,  and  ecclesiastics 
have  introduced  into  it.  Let  us  not,  however,  even 
then  delude  ourselves  with  any  impossible  hopes.     The 


38  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

hardships  of  life  would  not  be  eliminated  if  the  laws  of 
nature  acted  directly  and  without  interference.  The 
task  of  right  living  forever  changes  its  form,  but  let  us 
not  imagine  that  that  task  will  ever  reach  a  final  solu- 
tion or  that  any  race  of  men  on  this  earth  can  ever  be 
emancipated  from  the  necessity  of  industry,  prudence, 
continence,  and  temperance  if  they  are  to  pass  their 
lives  prosperously.  If  you  believe  the  contrary  you 
must  suppose  that  some  men  can  come  to  exist  who 
shall  know  nothing  of  old  age,  disease,  and  death. 

The  socialist  enterprise  of  reorganizing  society  in 
order  to  change  what  is  harsh  and  sad  in  it  at  present 
is  therefore  as  impossible,  from  the  outset,  as  a  plan 
for  changing  the  physical  order.  I  read  the  other  day 
a  story  in  which  a  man  dreamt  that  somebody  had 
invented  an  application  of  electricity  for  eradicating 
certain  facts  from  the  memory.  Just  think  of  it !  What 
an  emancipation  to  the  human  race,  if  a  man  could  so 
emancipate  himself  from  all  those  incidents  in  his  past 
life  which  he  regrets!  Let  there  no  longer  be  such  a 
thing  as  remorse  or  vain  regret!  It  would  be  half  as 
good  as  finding  a  fountain  of  eternal  youth.  Or  invent 
us  a  world  in  which  two  and  two  could  make  five.  Two 
two-dollar  notes  could  then  pay  five  dollars  of  debts. 
They  say  that  political  economy  is  a  dismal  science  and 
that  its  doctrines  are  dark  and  cruel.  I  think  the  hardest 
fact  in  human  life  is  that  two  and  two  cannot  make 
five;  but  in  sociology  while  people  will  agree  that  two 
and  two  cannot  make  five,  yet  they  think  that  it  might 
somehow  be  possible  by  adjusting  two  and  two  to  one 
another  in  some  way  or  other  to  make  two  and  two 
equal  to  four  and  one-tenth. 

I  have  shown  how  men  emerge  from  barbarism  only 
by  the  use  of  capital  and  why  it  is  that,  as  soon  as  they 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  89 

begin  to  use  capital,  if  there  is  liberty,  there  will  be 
inequality.  The  socialist  looking  at  these  facts  says 
that  it  is  capital  which  produces  the  inequality.  It  is 
the  inequality  of  men  in  what  they  get  out  of  life  which 
shocks  the  socialist.  He  finds  enough  to  criticize  in 
the  products  of  past  dogmatism  and  bad  statesmanship 
to  which  I  have  alluded,  and  the  program  of  reforms  to 
be  accomplished  and  abuses  to  be  rectified  which  the 
socialists  have  set  up  have  often  been  admirable.  It 
is  their  analysis  of  the  situation  which  is  at  fault.  Their 
diagnosis  of  the  social  disease  is  founded  on  sectarian 
assumptions,  not  on  the  scientific  study  of  the  structure 
and  functions  of  the  social  body.  In  attacking  capital 
they  are  simply  attacking  the  foundations  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  every  socialistic  scheme  which  has  ever  been 
proposed,  so  far  as  it  has  lessened  the  motives  to  saving 
or  the  security  of  capital,  is  anti-social  and  anti-civilizing. 
Rousseau,  who  is  the  great  father  of  the  modern 
socialism,  laid  accusation  for  the  inequalities  existing 
amongst  men  upon  wheat  and  iron.  What  he  meant 
was  that  wheat  is  a  symbol  of  agriculture,  and  when 
men  took  to  agriculture  and  wheat  diet  they  broke  up 
their  old  tribal  relations,  which  were  partly  communis- 
tic, and  developed  individualism  and  private  property. 
At  the  same  time  agriculture  called  for  tools  and  ma- 
chines, of  which  iron  is  a  symbol;  but  these  tools  and 
machines  are  capital.  Agriculture,  individualism,  tools, 
capital  were,  according  to  Rousseau's  ideas,  the  causes 
of  inequality.  He  was,  in  a  certain  way,  correct,  as 
we  have  already  seen  by  our  own  analysis  of  the  facts 
of  the  social  order.  When  human  society  reached  the 
agricultural  stage  machinery  became  necessary.  Capi- 
tal was  far  more  important  than  on  the  hunting  or 
pastoral  stage,  and  the  inequalities  of  men  were  devel- 


40  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

oped  with  great  rapidity,  so  that  we  have  a  Humboldt, 
a  Newton,  or  a  Shakespeare  at  one  end  of  the  scale  and 
a  Digger  Indian  at  the  other.  The  Humboldt  or  Newton 
is  one  of  the  highest  products  produced  by  the  constant 
selection  and  advance  of  the  best  part  of  the  human 
race,  viz.,  those  who  have  seized  every  chance  of  ad- 
vancing; and  the  Digger  Indian  is  a  specimen  of  that 
part  of  the  race  which  withdrew  from  the  competition 
clear  back  at  the  beginning  and  has  consequently  never 
made  any  advance  beyond  the  first  superiority  of  man 
to  beasts.  Rousseau,  following  the  logic  of  his  own 
explanation  of  the  facts,  offered  distinctly  as  the  cure 
for  inequality  a  return  to  the  hunting  stage  of  life  as 
practiced  by  the  American  Indians.  In  this  he  was 
plainly  and  distinctly  right.  If  you  want  equality  you 
must  not  look  forward  for  it  on  the  path  of  advancing 
civilization.  You  may  go  back  to  the  mode  of  life  of 
the  American  Indian,  and,  although  you  will  not  then 
reach  equality,  you  will  escape  those  glaring  inequalities 
of  wealth  and  poverty  by  coming  down  to  a  comparative 
equality,  that  is,  to  a  status  in  which  all  are  equally 
miserable.  Even  this,  however,  you  cannot  do  without 
submitting  to  other  conditions  which  are  far  more 
appalling  than  any  sad  facts  in  the  existing  order  of 
society.  The  population  of  Massachusetts  is  about 
two  hundred  to  the  square  mile;  on  the  hunting  stage 
Massachusetts  could  not  probably  support,  at  the 
utmost,  five  to  the  square  mile;  hence  to  get  back  to 
the  hunting  stage  would  cost  the  reduction  of  the 
population  to  two  and  a  half  where  there  are  now 
one  hundred.  In  Rousseau's  day  people  did  not  even 
know  that  this  question  of  the  power  of  land  to  support 
population  was  to  be  taken  into  account. 

Socialists  find  it  necessary  to  alter  the  definition  of 


THE  CK\LLEXGE  OF  FACTS  41 

capital  in  order  to  maintain  their  attacks  upon  it.  Karl 
Marx,  for  instance,  regards  capital  as  an  accumulation 
of  the  differences  which  a  merchant  makes  between  his 
bu\"ing  price  and  his  selling  price.  It  is,  according  to 
him,  an  accumulation  of  the  differences  which  the 
employer  gains  between  what  he  pays  to  the  employees 
for  making  the  thing  and  what  he  obtains  for  it  from 
the  consumer.  In  this  view  of  the  matter  the  capitalist 
employer  is  a  pure  parasite,  who  has  fastened  on  the 
wage-recei\'ing  employee  without  need  or  reason  and 
is  le\'yang  toll  on  industry.  All  socialistic  writers 
follow,  in  different  degrees,  this  conception  of  capital. 
If  it  is  true,  why  do  not  I  levj*  on  some  workers  some- 
where and  steal  this  difference  in  the  product  of  their 
labor.'  Is  it  because  I  am  more  honest  or  magnanimous 
than  those  who  are  capitalist-employers.'  I  should 
not  trust  myself  to  resist  the  chance  if  I  had  it.  Or 
again,  let  us  ask  why,  if  this  conception  of  the  origin 
of  capital  is  correct,  the  workmen  submit  to  a  pure 
and  unnecessary  imp>osition.  If  this  notion  were  true, 
co-oi>eration  in  production  would  not  need  any  effort 
to  bring  it  about;  it  would  take  an  army  to  keep  it 
down.  The  reason  why  it  is  not  possible  for  the  first 
comer  to  start  out  as  an  employer  of  labor  is  that  capital 
is  a  prerequisite  to  all  industry.  So  soon  as  men  pass 
beyond  the  stage  of  life  in  which  they  Uve,  like  beasts, 
on  the  spontaneous  fruits  of  the  earth,  capital  must 
precede  every  productive  enterprise.  It  would  lead 
me  too  far  away  from  my  present  subject  to  elaborate 
this  statement  as  it  deserves  and  perhaps  as  it  needs, 
but  I  may  say  that  there  is  no  sound  political  economy 
and  especially  no  correct  conception  of  wages  which  is 
not  based  on  a  complete  recognition  of  the  character 
of  capital  as  necessarily  going  before  every  industrial 


42  THE  CHALLENGE  OF   FACTS 

operation.  The  reason  why  co-operation  in  produc- 
tion is  exceedingly  difficult,  and  indeed  is  not  possible 
except  in  the  highest  and  rarest  conditions  of  educa- 
tion and  culture  amongst  artisans,  is  that  workmen  can- 
not undertake  an  enterprise  without  capital,  and  that 
capital  always  means  the  fruits  of  prudence  and  self- 
denial  already  accomplished.  The  capitalist's  profits, 
therefore,  are  only  the  reward  for  the  contribution  he 
has  made  to  a  joint  enterprise  which  could  not  go  on 
without  him,  and  his  share  is  as  legitimate  as  that  of 
the  hand-worker. 

The  socialist  assails  particularly  the  institution  of 
bequest  or  hereditary  property,  by  which  some  men 
come  into  life  with  special  protection  and  advantage. 
The  right  of  bequest  rests  on  no  other  grounds  than 
those  of  expediency.  The  love  of  children  is  the 
strongest  motive  to  frugality  and  to  the  accumulation 
of  capital.  The  state  guarantees  the  power  of  bequest 
only  because  it  thereby  encourages  the  accumulation 
of  capital  on  which  the  welfare  of  society  depends.  It 
is  true  enough  that  inherited  capital  often  proves  a 
curse.  Wealth  is  like  health,  physical  strength,  educa- 
tion, or  anything  else  which  enhances  the  power  of  the 
individual;  it  is  only  a  chance;  its  moral  character 
depends  entirely  upon  the  use  which  is  made  of  it. 
Any  force  which,  when  well  used,  is  capable  of  elevating 
a  man,  will,  if  abused,  debase  him  in  the  same  propor- 
tion. This  is  true  of  education,  which  is  often  and 
incorrectly  vaunted  as  a  positive  and  purely  beneficent 
instrumentality.  An  education  ill  used  makes  a  man 
only  a  more  mischievous  scoundrel,  just  as  an  education 
well  used  makes  him  a  more  efficient,  good  citizen  and 
producer.  So  it  is  with  wealth;  it  is  a  means  to  all  the 
higher  developments  of  intellectual  and  moral  culture. 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  48 

A  man  of  inherited  wealth  can  gain  in  youth  all  the 
advantages  which  are  essential  to  high  culture,  and 
which  a  man  who  must  first  earn  the  capital  cannot 
attain  until  he  is  almost  past  the  time  of  life  for  profiting 
by  them.  If  one  should  believe  the  newspapers,  one 
would  be  driven  to  a  philosophy  something  like  this: 
it  is  extremely  praiseworthy  for  a  man  born  in  poverty 
to  accumulate  a  fortune;  the  reason  why  he  wants  to 
secure  a  fortune  is  that  he  wants  to  secure  the  position 
of  his  children  and  start  them  with  better  advantages 
than  he  enjoyed  himself;  this  is  a  noble  desire  on  his 
part,  but  he  really  ought  to  doubt  and  hesitate  about 
so  doing  because  the  chances  are  that  he  would  do  far 
better  for  his  children  to  leave  them  poor.  The  children 
who  inherit  his  wealth  are  put  under  suspicion  by  it; 
it  creates  a  presumption  against  them  in  all  the  activities 
of  citizenship. 

Now  it  is  no  doubt  true  that  the  struggle  to  win  a 
fortune  gives  strength  of  character  and  a  practical  judg- 
ment and  efficiency  which  a  man  who  inherits  wealth 
rarely  gets,  but  hereditary  wealth  transmitted  from 
generation  to  generation  is  the  strongest  instrument 
by  which  we  keep  up  a  steadily  advancing  civilization. 
In  the  absence  of  laws  of  entail  and  perpetuity  it  is 
inevitable  that  capital  should  speedily  slip  from  the 
hold  of  the  man  who  is  not  fit  to  possess  it,  back  into 
the  great  stream  of  capital,  and  so  find  its  way  into 
the  hands  of  those  who  can  use  it  for  the  benefit  of 
society. 

The  love  of  children  is  an  instinct  which,  as  I  have 
said  before,  grows  stronger  with  advancing  civiliza- 
tion. All  attacks  on  capital  have.-  up  to  this  time,  been 
shipwrecked  on  this  instinct.  Consequently  the  most 
rigorous   and  logical   socialists   have  always  been   led 


44  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

sooner  or  later  to  attack  the  family.  For,  if  bequest 
should  be  abolished,  parents  would  give  their  property 
to  their  children  in  their  own  life- time;  and  so  it  becomes 
a  logical  necessity  to  substitute  some  sort  of  commu- 
nistic or  socialistic  life  for  family  life,  and  to  educate 
children  in  masses  without  the  tie  of  parentage.  Every 
socialistic  theory  which  has  been  pursued  energetically 
has  led  out  to  this  consequence.  I  will  not  follow  up 
this  topic,  but  it  is  plain  to  see  that  the  only  equality 
which  could  be  reached  on  this  course  would  be  that 
men  should  be  all  equal  to  each  other  when  they  were 
all  equal  to  swine. 

Socialists  are  filled  with  the  enthusiasm  of  equality. 
Every  scheme  of  theirs  for  securing  equality  has  de- 
stroyed liberty.  The  student  of  political  philosophy 
has  the  antagonism  of  equality  and  liberty  constantly 
forced  upon  him.  Equality  of  possession  or  of  rights 
and  equality  before  the  law  are  diametrically  opposed 
to  each  other.  The  object  of  equality  before  the  law  is 
to  make  the  state  entirely  neutral.  The  state,  under 
that  theory,  takes  no  cognizance  of  persons.  It  sur- 
rounds all,  without  distinctions,  with  the  same  condi- 
tions and  guarantees.  If  it  educates  one,  it  educates 
all  —  black,  white,  red,  or  yellow;  Jew  or  Gentile; 
native  or  alien.  If  it  taxes  one,  it  taxes  all,  by  the 
same  system  and  under  the  same  conditions.  If  it 
exempts  one  from  police  regulations  in  home,  church, 
and  occupation,  it  exempts  all.  From  this  statement 
it  is  at  once  evident  that  pure  equality  before  the  law 
is  impossible.  Some  occupations  must  be  subjected  to 
police  regulation.  Not  all  can  be  made  subject  to 
militia  duty  even  for  the  same  limited  period.  The 
exceptions  and  special  cases  furnish  the  chance  for 
abuse.     Equality  before  the  law,  however,  is  one  of  the 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  45 

cardinal  principles  of  civil  liberty,  because  it  leaves 
each  man  to  run  the  race  of  life  for  himself  as  best  he 
can.  The  state  stands  neutral  but  benevolent.  It 
does  not  undertake  to  aid  some  and  handicap  others 
at  the  outset  in  order  to  offset  hereditary  advantages 
and  disadvantages,  or  to  make  them  start  equally. 
Such  a  notion  would  belong  to  the  false  and  spurious 
theory  of  equality  which  is  socialistic.  If  the  state 
should  attempt  this  it  would  make  itself  the  servant  of 
envy.  I  am  entitled  to  make  the  most  I  can  of  myself 
without  hindrance  from  anybody,  but  I  am  not  entitled 
to  any  guarantee  that  I  shall  make  as  much  of  myself 
as  somebody  else  makes  of  himself. 

The  modern  thirst  for  equality  of  rights  is  explained 
by  its  historical  origin.  The  mediaeval  notion  of  rights 
was  that  rights  were  special  privileges,  exemptions, 
franchises,  and  powers  given  to  individuals  by  the  king; 
hence  each  man  had  just  so  many  as  he  and  his  ancestors 
had  been  able  to  buy  or  beg  by  force  or  favor,  and  if 
a  man  had  obtained  no  grants  he  had  no  rights.  Hence 
no  two  persons  were  equal  in  rights  and  the  mass  of  the 
population  had  none.  The  theory  of  natural  rights  and 
of  equal  rights  was  a  revolt  against  the  mediaeval  theory. 
It  was  asserted  that  men  did  not  have  to  wait  for  a 
king  to  grant  them  rights;  they  have  them  by  nature, 
or  in  the  nature  of  things,  because  they  are  men  and 
members  of  civil  society.  If  rights  come  from  nature, 
it  is  inferred  that  they  fall  like  air  and  light  on  all  equally. 
It  was  an  immense  step  in  advance  for  the  human  race 
when  this  new  doctrine  was  promulgated.  Its  own 
limitations  and  errors  need  not  now  be  pointed  out. 
Its  significance  is  plain,  and  its  limits  are  to  some  extent 
defined  when  we  note  its  historical  origin. 

I  have  already  shown  that  where  these  guarantees 


46  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

exist  and  where  there  is  liberty,  the  results  cannot  be 
equal,  but  with  all  liberty  there  must  go  responsibility. 
If  I  take  my  own  way  I  must  take  my  own  consequences; 
if  it  proves  that  I  have  made  a  mistake,  I  cannot 
be  allowed  to  throw  the  consequences  on  my  neighbor. 
If  my  neighbor  is  a  free  man  and  resents  interference 
from  me  he  must  not  call  on  me  to  bear  the  consequences 
of  his  mistakes.  Hence  it  is  plain  that  liberty,  equality 
before  the  law,  responsibility,  individualism,  monog- 
amy, and  private  property  all  hold  together  as  con- 
sistent parts  of  the  same  structure  of  society,  and  that 
an  assault  on  one  part  must  sooner  or  later  involve  an 
assault  on  all  the  others. 

To  all  this  must  be  added  the  political  element  in  so- 
cialism. The  acquisition  of  some  capital — the  amount 
is  of  very  subordinate  importance  —  is  the  first  and 
simplest  proof  that  an  individual  possesses  the  indus- 
trial and  civil  virtues  which  make  a  good  citizen  and 
a  useful  member  of  society.  Political  power,  a  cen- 
tury ago,  was  associated  more  or  less,  even  in  the 
United  States,  with  the  possession  of  land.  It  has 
been  gradually  extended  until  the  suffrage  is  to  all 
intents  and  purposes  universal  in  North  and  South 
America,  in  Australia,  and  in  all  Europe  except  Russia 
and  Turkey.  On  this  system  political  control  belongs 
to  the  numerical  majority,  limited  only  by  institutions. 
It  may  be  doubted,  if  the  terms  are  taken  strictly  and 
correctly,  whether  the  non-capitalists  outnumber  the 
capitalists  in  any  civilized  country,  but  in  many  cities 
where  capital  is  most  collected  they  certainly  do.  The 
powers  of  government  have  been  abused  for  ages  by 
the  classes  who  possessed  them  to  enable  kings,  courtiers, 
nobles,  politicians,  demagogues,  and  their  friends  to 
Kve  in  exemption  •  from  labor  and  self-denial,  that  is. 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  47 

from  the  universal  lot  of  man.  It  is  only  a  continua- 
tion of  the  same  abuse  if  the  new  possessors  of  power 
attempt  to  employ  it  to  secure  for  themselves  the 
selfish  advantages  which  all  possessors  of  power  have 
taken.  Such  a  course  would,  however,  overthrow  all 
that  we  think  has  been  won  in  the  way  of  making 
government  an  organ  of  justice,  peace,  order,  and 
security,  without  respect  of  persons;  and  if  those  gains 
are  not  to  be  lost  they  will  have  to  be  defended,  before 
this  century  closes,  against  popular  majorities,  especially 
in  cities,  just  as  they  had  to  be  won  in  a  struggle  with 
kings  and  nobles  in  the  centuries  past. 

The  newest  socialism  is,  in  its  method,  political.  The 
essential  feature  of  its  latest  phases  is  the  attempt  to 
use  the  power  of  the  state  to  realize  its  plans  and  to 
secure  its  objects.  These  objects  are  to  do  away  with 
poverty  and  misery,  and  there  are  no  socialistic  schemes 
yet  proposed,  of  any  sort,  which  do  not,  upon  analysis, 
turn  out  to  be  projects  for  curing  poverty  and  mis- 
ery by  making  those  who  have  share  with  those  who 
have  not.  Whether  they  are  paper-money  schemes, 
tariff  schemes,  subsidy  schemes,  internal  improvement 
schemes,  or  usury  laws,  they  all  have  this  in  common 
with  the  most  vulgar  of  the  communistic  projects,  and 
the  errors  of  this  sort  in  the  past  which  have  been 
committed  in  the  interest  of  the  capitalist  class  now 
furnish  precedents,  illustration,  and  encouragement  for 
the  new  category  of  demands.  The  latest  socialism 
divides  into  two  phases:  one  which  aims  at  centraliza- 
tion and  despotism — believing  that  political  form  more 
available  for  its  purposes;  the  other,  the  anarchical, 
which  prefers  to  split  up  the  state  into  townships, 
or  "communes,"  to  the  same  end.  The  latter  furnishes 
the  triie  etymology  and  meaning  of  "communism"  in 


48  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

its  present  use,  but  all  socialism,  in  its  second  stage,^ 
merges  into  a  division  of  property  according  to  the 
old  sense  of  communism. 

It  is  impossible  to  notice  socialism  as  it  presents  itself 
at  the  present  moment  without  pointing  out  the  im- 
mense mischief  which  has  been  done  by  sentimental 
economists  and  social  philosophers  who  have  thought 
it  their  professional  duty,  not  to  investigate  and  teach 
the  truth,  but  to  dabble  in  philanthropy.  It  is  in  Ger- 
many that  this  development  has  been  most  marked, 
and  as  a  consequence  of  it  ihe  judgment  and  sense  of 
the  whole  people  in  regard  to  political  and  social  ques- 
tions have  been  corrupted.  It  is  remarkable  that  the 
country  whose  learned  men  have  wrought  so  much  for 
every  other  science,  especially  by  virtue  of  their  scien- 
tific method  and  rigorous  critical  processes,  should  have 
furnished  a  body  of  social  philosophers  without  method, 
discipline,  or  severity  of  scholarship,  who  have  led  the 
nation  in  pursuit  of  whims  and  dreams  and  impossible 
desires.  Amongst  us  there  has  been  less  of  it,  for  our 
people  still  possess  enough  sterling  sense  to  reject 
sentimental  rubbish  in  its  grosser  forms,  but  we  have 
had  and  still  have  abundance  of  the  more  subtle  forms 
of  socialistic  doctrine,  and  these  open  the  way  to  the 
others.  We  may  already  see  the  two  developments 
forming  a  congenial  alliance.  We  have  also  our  writers 
and  teachers  who  seem  to  think  that  "the  weak"  and 
"the  poor'*  are  terms  of  exact  definition;  that  govern- 
ment  exists,  in  some  especial  sense,  for  the  sake  of  the 
classes  so  designated;  and  that  the  same  classes  (who- 
ever they  are)  have  some  especial  claim  on  the  interest 
and  attention  of  the  economist  and  social  philosopher. 
It  may  be  believed  that,  in  the  opinion  of  these  persons, 
the  training  of  men  is  the  only  branch  of  human  eflFort 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  49 

in  which  the  labor  and  care  should  be  spent,  not  on  the 
best  specimens   but  on  the  poorest. 

It  is  a  matter  of  course  that  a  reactionary  party  should 
arise  to  declare  that  universal  suffrage,  popular  educa- 
tion, machinery,  free  trade,  and  all  the  other  innovations 
of  the  last  hundred  years  are  all  a  mistake.  If  any 
one  ever  believed  that  these  innovations  were  so  many 
clear  strides  towards  the  millennium,  that  they  involve 
no  evils  or  abuses  of  their  own,  that  they  tend  to  emanci- 
pate mankind  from  the  need  for  prudence,  caution, 
forethought,  vigilance  —  in  short,  from  the  eternal 
struggle  against  evil  —  it  is  not  strange  that  he  should 
be  disappointed.  If  any  one  ever  believed  that  some 
"form  of  government"  could  be  found  which  would 
run  itself  and  turn  out  the  pure  results  of  abstract 
peace,  justice,  and  righteousness  without  any  trouble 
to  anybody,  he  may  well  be  dissatisfied.  To  talk  of 
turning  back,  however,  is  only  to  enhance  still  further 
the  confusion  and  danger  of  our  position.  The  world 
cannot  go  back.  Its  destiny  is  to  go  forward  and  to 
meet  the  new  problems  which  are  continually  arising. 
Under  our  so-called  progress  evil  only  alters  its  forms, 
and  we  must  esteem  it  a  grand  advance  if  we  can  believe 
that,  on  the  whole,  and  over  a  wide  view  of  human 
affairs,  good  has  gained  a  hair's  breadth  over  evil  in  a 
century.  Popular  institutions  have  their  own  abuses 
and  dangers  just  as  much  as  monarchical  or  aristocratic 
institutions.  We  are  only  just  finding  out  what  they 
are.  All  the  institutions  which  we  have  inherited  were 
invented  to  guard  liberty  against  the  encroachments 
of  a  powerful  monarch  or  aristocracy,  when  these  classes 
possessed  land  and  the  possession  of  land  was  the  greatest 
social  power.  Institutions  must  now  be  devised  to 
guard  civil  liberty  against  popular  majorities,  and  this 


50  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

necessity  arises  first  in  regard  to  the  protection  of 
property,  the  first  and  greatest  function  of  government 
and  element  in  civil  liberty.  There  is  no  escape  from 
any  dangers  involved  in  this  or  any  other  social  struggle 
save  in  going  forward  and  working  out  the  development. 
It  will  cost  a  struggle  and  will  demand  the  highest  wis- 
dom of  this  and  the  next  generation.  It  is  very  probable 
that  some  nations  —  those,  namely,  which  come  up 
to  this  problem  with  the  least  preparation,  with  the 
least  intelligent  comprehension  of  the  problem,  and 
under  the  most  inefficient  leadership  —  will  suffer  a 
severe  check  in  their  development  and  prosperity;  it 
is  very  probable  that  in  some  nations  the  development 
may  lead  through  revolution  and  bloodshed;  it  is  very 
probable  that  in  some  nations  the  consequence  may 
be  a  reaction  towards  arbitrary  power.  In  every  view 
we  take  of  it,  it  is  clear  that  the  general  abolition  of 
slavery  has  only  cleared  the  way  for  a  new  social  problem 
of  far  wider  scope  and  far  greater  difficulty.  It  seems 
to  me,  in  fact,  that  this  must  always  be  the  case.  The 
conquest  of  one  difficulty  will  only  open  the  way  to 
another;  the  solution  of  one  problem  will  only  bring 
man  face  to  face  with  another.  Man  wins  by  the  fight, 
not  by  the  victory,  and  therefore  the  possibilities  of 
growth  are  unlimited,  for  the  fight  has  no  end. 

The  progress  which  men  have  made  in  developing 
the  possibilities  of  human  existence  has  never  been 
made  by  jumps  and  strides.  It  has  never  resulted 
from  the  schemes  of  philosophers  and  reformers.  It 
has  never  been  guided  through  a  set  program  by  the 
wisdom  of  any  sages,  statesmen,  or  philanthropists. 
The  progress  which  has  been  made  has  been  won  in 
minute  stages  by  men  who  had  a  definite  task  before 
them,  and  who  have  dealt  with  it  in  detail,  as  it  pre- 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS  51 

sented  itself,  without  referring  to  general  principles, 
or  attempting  to  bring  it  into  logical  relations  to  an  a 
priori  system.  In  most  cases  the  agents  are  unknown 
and  cannot  be  found.  New  and  better  arrangements 
have  grown  up  imperceptibly  by  the  natural  effort  of 
all  to  make  the  best  of  actual  circumstances.  In  this 
way,  no  doubt,  the  new  problems  arising  in  our  modern 
society  must  be  solved  or  must  solve  themselves.  The 
chief  safeguard  and  hope  of  such  a  development  is  in 
the  sound  instincts  and  strong  sense  of  the  people, 
which,  although  it  may  not  reason  closely,  can  reject 
instinctively.  If  there  are  laws  —  and  there  certainly 
are  such  —  which  permit  the  acquisition  of  property 
without  industry,  by  cunning,  force,  gambling,  swin- 
dling, favoritism,  or  corruption,  such  laws  transfer 
property  from  those  who  have  earned  it  to  those  who 
have  not.  Such  laws  contain  the  radical  vice  of  social- 
ism. They  demand  correction  and  offer  an  open  field 
for  reform  because  reform  would  lie  in  the  direction  of 
greater  purity  and  security  of  the  right  of  property. 
Whatever  assails  that  right,  or  goes  in  the  direction  of 
making  it  still  more  uncertain  whether  the  industrious 
man  can  dispose  of  the  fruits  of  his  industry  for  his  own 
interests  exclusively,  tends  directly  towards  violence, 
bloodshed,  poverty,  and  misery.  If  any  large  section 
of  modern  society  should  rise  against  the  rest  for  the 
purpose  of  attempting  any  such  spoliation,  either  by 
violence  or  through  the  forms  of  law,  it  would  destroy 
civilization  as  it  was  destroyed  by  the  irruption  of  the 
barbarians  into  the  Roman  Empire. 

The  sound  student  of  sociology  can  hold  out  to  man- 
kind, as  individuals  or  as  a  race,  only  one  hope  of  better 
and  happier  living.  That  hope  lies  in  an  enhancement 
of  the  industrial  virtues  and  of  the  moral  forces  which 


52  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

thence  arise.  Industry,  self-denial,  and  temperance 
are  the  laws  of  prosperity  for  men  and  states;  without 
them  advance  in  the  arts  and  in  wealth  means  only 
corruption  and  decay  through  luxury  and  vice.  With 
them  progress  in  the  arts  and  increasing  wealth  are  the 
prime  conditions  of  an  advancing  civilization  which  is 
sound  enough  to  endure.  The  power  of  the  human  race 
to-day  over  the  conditions  of  prosperous  and  happy 
living  are  sufficient  to  banish  poverty  and  misery  if  it 
were  not  for  folly  and  vice.  The  earth  does  not  begin 
to  be  populated  up  to  its  power  to  support  population 
on  the  present  stage  of  the  arts;  if  the  United  States 
were  as  densely  populated  as  the  British  Islands,  we 
should  have  1,000,000,000  people  here.  If,  therefore, 
men  were  willing  to  set  to  work  with  energy  and  courage 
to  subdue  the  outlying  parts  of  the  earth,  all  might  live 
in  plenty  and  prosperity.  But  if  they  insist  on  remain- 
ing in  the  slums  of  great  cities  or  on  the  borders  of  an 
old  society,  and  on  a  comparatively  exhausted  soil, 
there  is  no  device  of  economist  or  statesman  which  can 
prevent  them  from  falling  victims  to  poverty  and 
misery  or  from  succumbing  in  the  competition  of  life 
to  those  who  have  greater  command  of  capital.  The 
socialist  or  philanthropist  who  nourishes  them  in  their 
situation  and  saves  them  from  the  distress  of  it  is  only 
cultivating  the  distress  which  he  pretends  to  cure. 


REPLY  TO  A  SOCIALIST 


REPLY  TO  A  SOCIALIST  1 

[1904] 

"Always  dig  out  the  major  premise! "said  an  experi- 
enced teacher  of  logic  and  rhetoric.  The  major  premise 
of  Mr.  Sinclair  is  that  everybody  ought  to  be  happy, 
and  that,  if  anybody  is  not  so,  those  who  stand  near 
him  are  under  obligations  to  make  him  so.  He  nowhere 
expresses  this.  The  major  premise  is  always  most 
fallacious  when  it  is  suppressed.  The  statement  of  the 
woes  of  the  garment  workers  is  made  on  the  assumption 
that  it  carries  upon  its  face  some  significance.  He 
deduces  from  the  facts  two  inferences  for  which  he 
appeals  to  common  consent:  (1)  that  such  a  state  of 
things  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  continue  forever,  and 
(2)  that  somehow,  somewhere,  another  "system"  must 
be  found.  The  latter  inference  is  one  which  the  social- 
ists always  affirm,  and  they  seem  to  be  satisfied  that  it 
has  some  value,  both  in  philosophy  and  in  practical 
effort.  They  criticize  the  "system,"  by  which  they 
mean  the  social  world  as  it  is.  They  do  not  perceive 
that  the  world  of  human  society  is  what  has  resulted 
from  thousands  of  years  of  life.  It  is  not  a  system  any 
more  than  a  man  sixty  years  old  is  a  system.  It  is  a 
product.  To  talk  of  making  another  system  is  like 
talking  of  making  a  man  of  sixty  into  something  else 
than  what  his  life  has  made  him.  As  for  the  inference 
that  some  other  industrial  system  must  be  found,  it  is 
as  idle  as  anything  which  words  can  express.     It  leads 

1  Collier's  Weekly.  October  29,  1904. 
[55] 


56  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

to  nothing  and  has  no  significance.  The  industrial 
system  has  changed  often  and  it  will  change  again. 
Nobody  invented  former  forms.  No  one  can  invent 
others.  It  will  change  according  to  conditions  and 
interests,  just  as  the  gilds  and  manors  changed  into 
modern  phases.  It  is  frightful  to  know  of  the  poverty 
which  some  people  endure.  It  is  also  frightful  to  know 
of  disease,  of  physical  defects,  of  accidents  which  cripple 
the  body  and  wreck  life,  and  of  other  ills  by  which  human 
life  is  encompassed.  Such  facts  appeal  to  human 
sympathy,  and  call  for  such  help  and  amelioration  as 
human  effort  can  give.  It  is  senseless  to  enumerate 
such  facts,  simply  in  order  to  create  a  state  of  mind  in 
the  hearer,  and  then  to  try  to  make  him  assent  that 
*'the  system  ought  to  be  changed."  All  the  hospitals, 
asylums,  almshouses,  and  other  eleemosynary  institu- 
tions prove  that  the  worid  is  not  made  right.  They 
prove  the  existence  of  people  who  have  not  "equal 
chances"  with  others.  The  inmates  can  not  be  happy. 
Generally  the  institutions  also  prove  the  very  limited 
extent  to  which,  with  the  best  intentions  and  greatest 
efforts,  the  more  fortunate  can  do  anything  to  help  the 
matter  —  that  is,  to  "change  the  system." 

The  notion  that  everybody  ought  to  be  happy,  and 
equally  happy  with  all  the  rest,  is  the  fine  flower  of  the 
philosophy  which  has  been  winning  popularity  for  two 
hundred  years.  All  the  petty  demands  of  natural 
rights,  liberty,  equality,  etc.,  are  only  stepping-stones 
toward  this  philosophy,  which  is  really  what  is  wanted. 
All  through  human  history  some  have  had  good  fortune  and 
some  ill  fortune.  For  some  the  ills  of  life  have  taken  all  the 
joy  and  strength  out  of  existence,  while  the  fortunate 
have  always  been  there  to  show  how  glorious  life  might 
be  and  to  furnish  dreams  of  bliss  to  tantalize  those  who 


REPLY  TO  A  SOCIALIST  57 

have  failed  and  suffered.  So  men  have  constructed  in 
philosophy  theories  of  universal  felicity.  They  tell  us 
that  every  one  has  a  natural  right  to  be  happy,  to  be 
comfortable,  to  have  health,  to  succeed,  to  have  knowl- 
edge, family,  political  power,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
things  which  anybody  can  have.  They  put  it  all  into 
the  major  premise.  Then  they  say  that  we  all  ought  to 
be  equal.  That  proposition  abolishes  luck.  In  making 
propositions  we  can  imply  that  all  ought  to  have  equally 
good  luck,  but,  inasmuch  as  there  is  no  way  in  which 
we  can  turn  bad  luck  into  good,  or  misfortune  into 
good  fortune,  what  the  proposition  means  is  that  if 
we  can  not  all  have  good  luck  no  one  shall  have  it. 
The  unlucky  will  pull  down  the  lucky.  That  is  all  that 
equality  ever  can  mean.  The  worst  becomes  the  stand- 
ard. When  we  talk  of  "changing  the  system,"  we 
ought  to  understand  that  that  means  abolishing  luck 
and  all  the  ills  of  life.  We  might  as  well  talk  of  abol- 
ishing storms,  excessive  heat  and  cold,  tornadoes,  pes- 
tilences, diseases,  and  other  ills.  Poverty  belongs  to 
the  struggle  for  existence,  and  we  are  all  born  into  that 
struggle.  The  human  race  began  in  utter  destitution. 
It  had  no  physical  or  metaphysical  endowment  what- 
ever. The  existing  "system"  is  the  outcome  of  the 
efforts  of  men  for  thousands  of  years  to  work  together, 
so  as  to  win  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Probably 
socialists  do  not  perceive  what  it  means  for  any  man 
now  to  turn  about  and  pass  his  high  judgment  on  the 
achievements  of  the  human  race  in  the  way  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  to  propose  to  change  it,  by  resolution,  in  about 
"six  years."  The  result  of  the  long  effort  has  been  that 
we  all,  in  a  measure,  live  above  the  grade  of  savages, 
and  that  some  reach  comfort  and  luxury  and  mental 
and  moral  welfare.     Efforts  to  change  the  system  have 


58  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

not  been  wanting.  They  have  all  led  back  to  savagery. 
Mr.  Sinclair  thinks  that  the  French  Revolution  issued 
out  in  liberty.  The  French  Revolution  is  open  to 
very  many  dififerent  interpretations  and  constructions; 
but,  on  the  whole,  it  left  essential  interests  just  about 
where  it  found  them.  A  million  men  lost  their  lives  to 
get  Louis  de  Bourbon  off  the  throne  and  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  on  it,  and  by  the  spoils  of  Europe  to  make 
rich  nobles  of  his  generals.  That  is  the  most  definite 
and  indisputable  result  of  the  Revolution.  Mr.  Sinclair 
also  repeats  the  familiar  warning  or  threat  that  those 
who  are  not  competent  to  win  adequate  success  in  the 
struggle  for  existence  will  "rise."  They  are  going  to 
"shoot,"  unless  we  let  him  and  his  associates  redis- 
tribute property.  It  seems  that  it  would  be  worth 
while  for  them  to  consider  that,  by  their  own  hy- 
pothesis, those-who-have  will  possess  advantages  in 
"shooting":  (1)  they  will  have  the  guns;  (2)  they 
will  have  the  talent  on  their  side  because  they  can  pay 
for  it;  (3)  they  can  hire  an  army  out  of  the  ranks  of 
their  adversaries. 

In  all  this  declamation  we  hear  a  great  deal  about 
votes  and  political  power,  "ballots  or  bullets."  Of 
course  this  is  another  outcome  of  the  political  and 
social  philosophy  of  the  last  two  centuries.  Mr.  Sin- 
clair says  that  "Democracy  is  an  attitude  of  soul.  It 
has  its  basis  in  the  spiritual  nature  of  man,  from  which 
it  follows  that  all  men  are  equal,  or  that,  if  they  are 
not,  they  must  become  so."  Then  Democracy  is  a 
metaphysical  religion  or  mythology.  The  age  is  not 
friendly  to  metaphysics  or  mythology,  but  it  falls  under 
the  dominion  of  these  old  tyrants  in  its  political  philoso- 
phy. If  anybody  wants  to  put  his  soul  in  an  attitude, 
he  ought  to  do  it.    The  "system"  allows  that  liberty. 


REPLY  TO  A  SOCIALIST  69 

and  it  is  far  safer  than  shooting.  It  is  also  permitted 
to  believe  that,  if  men  are  not  equal,  they  will  become 
so.  If  we  wait  a  while  they  will  all  die,  and  then  they 
will  all  be  equal,  although  they  certainly  will  not  be  so 
before  that. 

There  are  plenty  of  customs  and  institutions  among 
us  which  produce  evil  results.  They  need  reform;  and 
propositions  to  that  end  are  reasonable  and  useful.  A 
few  years  ago  we  heard  of  persons  who  wanted  to  abolish 
poverty.  They  had  no  plan  or  scheme  by  which  to  do  it; 
in  the  meantime,  however,  people  were  working  day  by 
day  to  overcome  poverty  as  well  as  they  could,  each  for 
himself.  The  talk  about  abolishing  poverty  by  some 
resolution  or  construction  has  died  out.  The  "indus- 
trial system"  is  just  the  organized  effort  which  we  are 
all  making  to  overcome  poverty.  We  do  not  want  to 
change  the  system  unless  we  can  be  convinced  that  we 
can  make  a  shift  which  will  accomplish  that  purpose 
better.  Then,  be  it  observed,  the  system  will  be 
changed  without  waiting  for  any  philosophers  to  pro- 
pose it.  It  is  being  changed  every  day,  just  as  quickly 
as  any  detail  in  it  can  be  altered  so  as  to  defeat  pov- 
erty better.  This  is  a  world  in  which  the  rule  is,  "Root, 
hog,  or  die,"  and  it  is  also  a  world  in  which  "the  longest 
pole  knocks  down  the  most  persimmons."  It  is  the 
popular  experience  which  has  formulated  these  sayings. 
How  can  we  make  them  untrue.'*  They  contain  im- 
mense tragedies.  Those  who  believe  that  the  problems 
of  human  pain  and  ill  are  waiting  for  a  speculative 
solution  in  philosophy  or  ethics  can  dream  of  changing 
the  system;  but  to  everybody  else  it  must  seem  worse 
than  a  waste  of  time  to  wrangle  about  such  a  thing.  It 
is  not  a  proposition;  it  does  not  furnish  either  a  thesis 
to  be  tested  or  a  project  to  be  considered. 


60  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  PACTS 

I  am  by  no  means  arguing  that  "everything  is  for  the 
best  in  the  best  of  worlds,"  even  in  that  part  of  it  where 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  still  float.  I  am,  on  the  contrary, 
one  of  those  who  think  that  there  is  a  great  deal  to  be 
dissatisfied  about.  I  may  be  asked  what  I  think  would 
be  a  remedy  for  the  distress  of  the  garment  workers. 
I  answer  candidly  that  I  do  not  know  —  that  is  why  I 
have  come  forward  with  no  proposition.  My  business 
now  is  to  show  how  empty  and  false  Mr.  Sinclair's 
proposition  is,  and  how  harmful  it  would  be  to  heed  it. 
He  only  adds  to  our  trouble  and  burden  by  putting  for- 
ward erroneous  ideas  and  helping  to  encourage  bad 
thinking.  The  plan  to  rise  and  shoot  has  no  promise 
of  welfare  in  it  for  anybody. 

Neither  is  there  any  practical  sense  or  tangible  project 
behind  the  suggestion  to  redistribute  property.  Some 
years  ago  I  heard  a  socialist  orator  say^  that  he  could 
get  along  with  any  audience  except  "these  measly, 
mean-spirited  workingmen,  who  have  saved  a  few 
hundred  dollars  and  built  a  cottage,  with  a  savings 
bank  mortgage,  of  which  they  rent  the  second  story  and 
live  in  the  first.  They,"  said  he,  "will  get  up  and  go 
out,  a  benchful  at  a  time,  when  I  begin  to  talk  about 
rent."  If  he  had  been  open  to  instruction  from  facts,  he 
might  have  learned  much  from  the  conduct  of  those 
measly  workingmen.  They  will  fight  far  more  fero- 
ciously for  their  cottages  than  the  millionaires  for  their 
palaces.  A  redistribution  of  property  means  universal 
war.  The  final  collapse  of  the  French  Revolution  was 
due  to  the  proposition  to  redistribute  property.  Prop- 
erty is  the  opposite  of  poverty;  it  is  our  bulwark 
against  want  and  distress,  but  also  against  disease  and 

*  This  was  one  of  Professor  Sumner's  pet  anecdotes,  and  I  risk  its  repeti- 
tion here  and  elsewhere  in  the  volume. — The  Editob. 


REPLY  TO  A  SOCIALIST  61 

all  other  ills,  which,  if  it  can  not  prevent  them,  it  still 
holds  at  a  distance.  If  we  weaken  the  security  of  prop- 
erty or  deprive  people  of  it,  we  plunge  into  distress 
those  who  now  are  above  it. 

Property  is  the  condition  of  civilization.  It  is  just 
as  essential  to  the  state,  to  religion,  and  to  education  as 
it  is  to  food  and  clothing.  In  the  form  of  capital  it  is 
essential  to  industry,  but  if  capital  were  not  property  it 
would  not  do  its  work  in  industry.  If  we  negative  or 
destroy  property  we  arrest  the  whole  life  of  civilized 
society  and  put  men  back  on  the  level  of  beasts.  The 
family  depends  on  property;  the  two  institutions  have 
been  correlative  throughout  the  history  of  civiliza- 
tion. Property  is  the  first  interest  of  man  in  time  and 
in  importance.  We  can  conceive  of  no  time  when 
property  was  not,  and  we  can  conceive  of  no  social 
growth  in  which  property  was  not^the  prime  condition. 
The  property  interest  is  also  the  one  which  moves  all 
men,  including  the  socialists,  more  quickly  and  deeply 
than  any  other.  Property  is  that  feature  of  the  exist- 
ing "industrial  system"  which  would  most  stubbornly 
resist  change  if  it  was  threatened  in  its  essential  char- 
acter and  meaning.  There  is  a  disposition  now  to 
apologize  for  property,  even  while  resisting  attack  upon 
it.  This  is  wrong.  Property  ought  to  be  defended  on 
account  of  its  reality  and  importance,  and  on  account 
of  its  rank  among  the  interests  of  men. 

What  the  socialists  complain  of  is  that  we  have  not 
yet  got  the  work  of  civilization  all  done  and  that  what 
has  been  done  does  not  produce  ideal  results.  The  task 
is  a  big  one  —  it  may  even  be  believed  that  it  is  infinite, 
because  what  we  accomplish  often  only  opens  new 
vistas  of  trouble.  At  present  we  are  working  on  with 
all  the  wisdom  we  have  been  able  to  win,  and  we  hope 


62  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

to  gain  more.  If  the  socialists  could  help  by  reason- 
able and  practical  suggestions,  their  aid  would  be  wel- 
come. When  they  propose  to  redistribute  property,  or 
to  change  the  industrial  system,  they  only  disturb  the 
work  and  introduce  confusion  and  destruction.  When 
they  talk  about  rising  and  shooting,  as  if  such  acts 
would  not  be  unreasonable  or  beyond  possibility,  they 
put  themselves  at  the  limit  of  the  law,  and  may,  before 
they  know  it,  become  favorers  of  crime. 


WHAT  IVIAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  AND 
THE  POOR  POORER? 


WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  AND 
THE  POOR  POORER  ?i 

[1887] 

Karl  Marx  says,  "An  accumulation  of  wealth  at 
one  pole  of  society  indicates  an  accumulation  of  mis- 
ery and  overwork  at  the  other."  ^  In  this  assertion, 
Marx  avoids  the  very  common  and  mischievous  fallacy 
of  confusing  causes,  consequences,  and  symptoms.  He 
suggests  that  what  is  found  at  one  pole  indicates,  or  is  a 
symptom  of  what  may  be  found  at  the  other.  In  the 
development  of  his  criticisms  on  political  economy  and 
the  existing  organization  of  society,  however,  Marx  pro- 
ceeds as  if  there  were  a  relation  of  cause  and  effect  in  the 
proposition  just  quoted,  and  his  followers  and  popular- 
izers  have  assumed  as  an  indisputable  postulate  that  the 
wealth  of  some  is  a  cause  of  the  poverty  of  others.  The 
question  of  priority  or  originality  as  between  Marx,  Rod- 
bertus,  and  others  is  at  best  one  of  vanity  between  them 
and  their  disciples,^  but  it  is  of  great  interest  and  im- 
portance to  notice  that  the  doctrine  that  wealth  at  one 
pole  makes  misery  at  the  other  is  the  correct  logical 
form  of  the  notion  that  progress  and  poverty  are  cor- 
relative. This  doctrine  rests  upon  another  and  still 
more  fundamental  one,  which  is  not  often  formulated, 

»  Popular  Science  Monthly,  Vol.  XXX,  1887,  pp.  289-296. 

«  "Das  Capital,"  I,  671. 

*  On  this  question  see  Anton  Menger,  "  Das  Recht  auf  den  vollen  Arbeitser- 
trag,"  Stuttgart,  1886.  This  writer  traces  back  for  a  century  the  fundamental 
socialistic  notions.  He  aims  to  develop  the  jural  as  distinguished  from  the  eco- 
nomic aspect  of  socialism. 

[651 


66  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

but  which  can  be  detected  in  most  of  the  current  social- 
istic discussions,  viz.,  that  all  the  capital  which  is  here 
now  would  be  here  under  any  laws  or  institutions  about 
property,  as  if  it  were  due  to  some  independent  cause; 
and  that  some  have  got  ahead  of  others  and  seized  upon 
the  most  of  it,  so  that  those  who  came  later  have  not  been 
able  to  get  any.  If  this  notion  about  the  source  of  capi- 
tal is  not  true,  then  wealth  at  one  pole  cannot  cause 
poverty  at  the  other.  If  it  is  true,  then  we  can  make 
any  regulations  we  like  about  the  distribution  of  wealth, 
without  fear  lest  the  measures  which  we  adopt  may  pre- 
vent any  wealth  from  being  produced. 

In  Rome,  under  the  empire,  wealth  at  one  pole  was  a 
symptom  of  misery  at  the  other,  because  Rome  was  not 
an  industrial  state.  Its  income  came  from  plunder. 
The  wealth  had  a  source  independent  of  the  production 
of  the  society  of  Rome.  That  part  of  the  booty  which 
some  got,  others  could  not  have.  No  such  thing  is  true 
of  an  industrial  society.  The  wealth  of  the  commercial 
cities  of  Italy  and  southern  Germany,  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  was  largely  in  the  hands  of  merchant-princes.  If 
one  were  told  that  some  of  these  merchants  were  very 
rich,  he  would  have  no  ground  of  inference  that  others 
in  those  cities  must  have  been  poor.  The  rich  were 
those  who  developed  the  opportunities  of  commerce 
which  were,  in  the  first  instance,  open  to  all.  What  they 
gained  came  out  of  nothing  which  anybody  else  ever  had 
or  would  have  had.  The  fact  that  there  are  wealthy 
men  in  England,  France,  and  the  United  States  to-day 
is  no  evidence  that  there  must  be  poor  men  here.  The 
riches  of  the  rich  are  perfectly  consistent  with  the  high 
condition  of  wealth  of  all,  down  to  the  last.  In  fact, 
the  aggregations  of  wealth,  both  while  being  made  and 
after   realization,   develop   and   sustain   the  prosperity 


WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  67 

of  all.  The  forward  movement  of  a  strong  population, 
with  abundance  of  land  and  highly  developed  command 
by  machinery  over  the  forces  of  nature,  must  produce 
a  state  of  society  in  which,  misfortune  and  vice  being  left 
out  of  account,  average  and  minimum  comfort  are  high, 
while  special  aggregations  may  be  enormous. 

Whatever  nexus  there  is  between  wealth  at  one  pole 
and  poverty  at  the  other  can  be  found  only  by  turning 
the  proposition  into  its  converse  —  misery  at  one  pole 
makes  wealth  at  the  other.  If  the  mass  at  one  pole 
should,  through  any  form  of  industrial  vice,  fall  into 
misery,  they  would  oflfer  to  the  few  wise  an  opportunity 
to  become  rich  by  taking  advantage  of  them.  They 
would  offer  a  large  supply  of  labor  at  low  wages,  a  high 
demand  for  capital  at  high  rates  of  interest,  and  a  fierce 
demand  for  land  at  high  rent. 

It  is  often  affirmed,  and  it  is  true,  that  competition 
tends  to  disperse  society  over  a  wide  range  of  unequal 
conditions.  Competition  develops  all  powers  that  exist 
according  to  their  measure  and  degree.  The  more 
intense  competition  is,  the  more  thoroughly  are  all  the 
forces  developed.  If,  then,  there  is  liberty,  the  results 
can  not  be  equal;  they  must  correspond  to  the  forces. 
Liberty  of  development  and  equality  of  result  are  there- 
fore diametrically  opposed  to  each  other.  If  a  group 
of  men  start  on  equal  conditions,  and  compete  in  a 
common  enterprise,  the  results  which  they  attain  must 
differ  according  to  inherited  powers,  early  advantages 
of  training,  personal  courage,  energy,  enterprise,  perse- 
verance, good  sense,  etc.,  etc.  Since  these  things  differ 
through  a  wide  range,  and  since  their  combinations  may 
vary  through  a  wide  range,  it  is  possible  that  the  results 
may  vary  through  a  wide  scale  of  degrees.  Moreover, 
the  more  intense  the  competition,  the  greater  are  the 


68  THE   CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

prizes  of  success  and  the  heavier  are  the  penalties  of 
failure.  This  is  illustrated  in  the  competition  of  a  large 
city  as  compared  with  that  of  a  small  one.  Competi- 
tion can  no  more  be  done  away  with  than  gravitation. 
Its  incidence  can  be  changed.  We  can  adopt  as  a  social 
policy,  "Woe  to  the  successful!"  We  can  take  the 
prizes  away  from  the  successful  and  give  them  to  the  un- 
successful. It  seems  clear  that  there  would  soon  be  no 
prizes  at  all,  but  that  inference  is  not  universally  ac- 
cepted. In  any  event,  it  is  plain  that  we  have  not  got 
rid  of  competition  —  i.e.,  of  the  struggle  for  existence 
and  the  competition  of  life.  We  have  only  decided  that, 
if  we  cannot  all  have  equally,  we  will  all  have  nothing. 

Competition  does  not  guarantee  results  corresponding 
with  merit,  because  hereditary  conditions  and  good  and 
bad  fortune  are  always  intermingled  with  merit,  but 
competition  secures  to  merit  all  the  chances  it  can  enjoy 
under  circumstances  for  which  none  of  one's  fellow- 
men  are  to  blame. 

Now  it  seems  to  be  believed  that  although  competi- 
tion produces  wide  grades  of  inequality,  yet  almsgiving, 
or  forcible  repartition  of  wealth,  would  not  do  so.  Here 
we  come  to  the  real,  great,  and  mischievous  fallacy 
of  the  social  philosophy  which  is  in  vogue.  Whether 
there  are  great  extremes  of  rich  and  poor  in  a  society  is 
a  matter  of  very  little  significance;  there  is  no  ground 
for  the  importance  which  is  attached  to  that  fact  in 
current  discussion.  It  is  constantly  aflBrmed  in  one  form 
or  another  that,  although  one  man  has  in  half  a  life- 
time greatly  improved  his  own  position,  and  can  put  his 
children  in  a  far  better  condition  than  that  in  which  he 
started,  nevertheless  he  has  not  got  his  fair  share  in  the 
gains  of  civilization,  because  his  neighbor,  who  started 
where  he  did,  has  become  a  millionaire.     John,  who  is 


.  WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  69 

eating  a  beefsteak  off  iron-stone  china,  finds  that  the  taste 
of  it  is  spoiled  because  he  knows  that  James  is  eating 
pheasants  off  gold.  William,  who  would  have  to  walk 
anyway,  finds  that  his  feet  ache  a  great  deal  worse 
because  he  learns  that  Peter  has  got  a  horse.  Henry, 
whose  yacht  is  twenty  feet  long,  is  sure  that  there  is 
something  wrong  in  society  because  Jacob  has  one  a 
hundred  feet  long.  These  are  weaknesses  of  human 
nature  which  have  always  been  the  fair  game  of  the 
satirists,  but  in  our  day  they  are  made  the  basis  of  a 
new  philosophy  and  of  a  redistribution  of  rights  and  of 
property.  If  the  laws  and  institutions  of  the  society 
hinder  any  one  from  fighting  out  the  battle  of  life  on  his 
or  her  own  behalf  to  the  best  of  one's  ability,  especially 
if  they  so  hinder  one  to  the  advantage  of  another,  the 
field  of  effort  for  intelligent  and  fruitful  reform  is  at 
once  marked  out;  but  if  examination  should  reveal 
no  such  operation  of  laws  and  institutions,  then  the  in- 
equality of  achievements  is  no  indication  of  any  social 
disease,  but  the  contrary. 

The  indication  of  social  health  or  disease  is  to  be 
sought  in  quite  another  fact.  The  question  whether  the 
society  is  formed  of  only  two  classes,  the  rich  and  the 
poor,  the  strong  and  the  weak,  or  whether  all  the  inter- 
vening grades  are  represented  in  a  sound  and  healthy 
proportion,  is  a  question  which  has  importance  because 
it  furnishes  indications  of  the  state  and  prospects  of  the 
society.  No  society  which  consists  of  the  two  extreme 
classes  only  is  in  a  sound  and  healthy  condition. 

If  we  regard  the  society  of  a  new  country,  with  little 
government  regulation,  free  institutions,  low  taxes, 
and  insignificant  military  duty,  as  furnishing  us  with  the 
nearest  example  of  a  normal  development  of  human 
society  under  civilization,  then  we  must  infer  that  such 


70  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

a  society  would  not  consist  of  two  well-defined  classes 
widely  separated  from  each  other,  but  that  there  would 
be  no  well-defined  classes  at  all,  although  its  members 
might,  in  their  extremest  range,  be  far  apart  in  wealth, 
education,  talent,  and  virtue.  Such  a  society  might,  as 
it  grew  older,  and  its  population  became  more  dense, 
develop,  under  high  competition,  great  extremes  of  eco- 
nomic power  and  social  condition,  but  there  is  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  the  whole  middle  range  would  not  be 
filled  up  by  the  great  mass  of  the  population. 

I  have  now  cleared  the  ground  for  the  proposition 
which  it  is  my  special  purpose,  in  this  paper,  to  offer: 

It  is  the  tendency  of  all  social  burdens  to  crush  out  the 
middle  clasSy  and  to  force  the  society  into  an  organization  of 
only  two  classes,  one  at  each  social  extreme. 

It  is  in  the  nature  of  the  case  impracticable  to  adjust 
social  burdens  proportionately  to  the  power  of  indi- 
viduals to  support  them.  If  this  could  be  done,  it  is 
possible  that  the  burdens  might  become  great,  even  ex- 
cessive, without  producing  the  effect  which  I  have  stated. 
Since,  however,  it  is  impossible  to  so  adjust  them,  and 
they  must  be  laid  on  "equally"  with  reference  to  the 
unit  of  service,  and  not  with  reference  to  some  unit  of 
capacity  to  endure  them,  it  follows  that  the  effect  must 
be  as  stated.  So  soon  as  the  burden  becomes  so  great 
that  it  surpasses  the  power  of  some  part  of  the  society, 
a  division  takes  place  between  those  who  can  and  those 
who  cannot  endure  it.  At  first,  those  who  are  close  to 
this  line,  but  just  above  it,  are  not  far  removed  from  those 
who  are  close  to  it,  but  just  below  it;  but,  as  time  goes 
on,  and  the  pressure  continues  to  operate,  they  are  con- 
stantly separated  from  each  other  by  a  wider  and  wider 
interval. 

Let  us  look  at  some  of  the  historical  facts  which 


WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  71 

show  us  this  law.  If  we  take  early  Roman  history  as 
MommseD  relates  it  to  us,  we  observe  the  constant  re- 
currence of  the  diifficulty  which  arose  from  the  ten- 
dency of  the  society  toward  two  extreme  classes.  It  was 
plainly  the  pressure  of  military  duty  and  taxes  which 
was  constantly  developing  two  classes,  debtors  and 
creditors.  The  demands  of  the  state  fell  upon  different 
men  in  very  different  severity  according  to  circum- 
stances.^ One  found  himself  just  so  well  established 
that  he  could  endure  without  being  crushed.  Another 
found  that  the  time  demanded,  or  the  wound  received, 
or  the  loss  sustained  by  an  inroad,  or  by  being  on  an 
unsuccessful  expedition,  threw  him  back  so  that  he  fell 
into  debt.  The  former,  securing  a  foothold  and  gaining 
a  little,  bought  a  slave  and  established  himself  with  a 
greater  margin  of  security.  Slavery,  of  course,  mightily 
helped  on  the  tendency.  Twenty  years  later  the  second 
man  was  the  bankrupt  debtor  and  bondman  of  the  first. 
All  insecurity  of  property  has  the  same  effect,  above 
all,  however,  when  the  insecurity  is  produced  by  abuse 
of  state  power.  In  the  later  history  of  Rome,  the  Roman 
power,  having  conquered  the  world  and  dragged  thou- 
sands born  elsewhere  into  Italy  as  slaves,  set  to  work  to 
plunder  its  conquest.  The  booty  taken  by  emperors, 
proconsuls,  and  freedmen-favorites,  and  by  the  sovereign 
city,  was  shared,  through  the  largesses,  with  the  prole- 
tariat of  the  city.  The  largesses  and  slavery  worked 
together  to  divide  the  Romans  into  two  classes.  The 
plunder  of  the  provinces  intensified  the  wealth  of  the 
wealthy.  The  largesses  pauperized  and  proletarianized 
the  populace  of  the  great  city.^    They  drew  away  citi- 

*  As  to  the  heavy  burdens  of  Roman  citizenship,  see  Merivale,  VIII,  £84. 

*  See  Mommsen,  book  III,  chapters  XI,  XII;  book  V,  chapter  XI;  Pohhiiaiiii, 
"Die  Uebervolkerung  der  antiken  Gross-Stadte,"  Leipzig,  1884. 


72  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

zens  from  the  country  and  from  honest  industry,  to 
swell  the  mob  of  the  city.  If  a  band  of  robbers  should 
split  into  patricians  and  plebeians  and  di\dde  the  plunder 
unequally,  it  is  plain  that,  as  time  went  on,  they  must 
separate  into  two  great  factions,  one  immensely  rich, 
the  other  miserably  poor.^  As  for  the  \'ictims,  although 
at  first  the  severity  and  security  of  Roman  law  and  order 
were  not  too  dear  even  at  the  price  which  they  cost, 
nevertheless  the  inevitable  effect  of  robbery  came  out 
at  last,  and  the  whole  Roman  world  was  impoverished.^ 
Those  only  among  the  provincials  could  get  or  retain 
wealth  who  could  gain  favor  with,  or  get  on  the  side  of  the 
rulers.  No  satisfactory  exposition  of  the  political  econ- 
omy of  the  Roman  commonwealth  has  yet  been  written. 
The  effect  of  the  Roman  system  on  population,  on  the 
development  of  capital  in  the  provinces,  on  the  arts  and 
sciences,  on  the  distribution  of  the  precious  metals,  on 
city  population  at  Rome  and  Constantinople,  on  the 
development  of  talent  and  genius,  offers  lessons  of  pro- 
found importance,  touching  in  many  points  on  questions 
which  now  occupy  us.  The  Roman  Empire  was  a  gi- 
gantic experiment  in  the  way  of  a  state  which  took 
from  some  to  give  to  others.  '*At  the  beginning  of  the 
third  century  already  the  signs  of  a  fatal  loss  of  vitality 
manifested  themselves  with  frightful  distinctness,  and 
spread  with  such  rapidity  that  no  sagacious  observer 

^  See  especially  Friedlander,  "Sittengeschichte,"  I,  22:  "In  the  enjoyment  of 
the  extravagant  abundance  of  advantages,  excitements,  and  spectacles,  which 
the  metropolis  offered,  the  highest  and  lowest  classes  were  best  off.  The  great 
majority  of  the  free  male  inhabitants  were  fed  partly  or  entirely  at  public  ex- 
pense. The  great  foimd  there  an  opportunity  and  means  for  a  royal  existence 
as  nowhere  else  on  earth.  The  middle  classes  were  most  exposed  to  the  disad- 
vantages of  life  at  Rome." 

>  See  Merivale.  VIII,  SSI;  Gibbon,  ch^ter  XXXVI.  at  the  end. 


WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  73 

could  deceive  himself  any  longer  as  to  the  beginning 
dissolution  of  the  gigantic  body."  ^ 

All  violence  has  the  same  effect.  In  the  fifth  and  sixth 
centuries  of  our  era,  the  general  disorder  and  violence 
which  prevailed  gradually  brought  about  a  division  of 
society  on  a  line  which,  of  course,  wavered  for  a  long  time. 
A  man  who  was  strong  enough  in  his  circumstances  to 
just  maintain  himself  in  such  times  became  a  lord; 
another,  who  could  not  maintain  himself,  sought  safety 
by  becoming  the  lord's  man.  As  time  went  on,  every 
retainer  whom  the  former  obtained  made  him  seem  a 
better  man  to  be  selected  as  lord;  and,  as  time  went  on, 
any  man  who  was  weak  but  independent  found  his 
position  more  and  more  untenable.^ 

Taine's  history  shows  distinctly  that  the  middle  class 
were  the  great  sufferers  by  the  French  Revolution.  At- 
tention has  always  been  arrested  by  the  nobles  who  were 
robbed  and  guillotined.  When,  however,  we  get  closer 
to  the  life  of  the  period,  we  see  that,  taking  the  nation 
over  for  the  years  of  the  revolutionary  disorder,  the 
victims  were  those  who  had  anything,  from  the  peasant 
or  small  tradesman  up  to  the  well-to-do  citizen.^  The 
rich  bought  their  way  through,  and  the  nobles  were  re- 
placed by  a  new  gang  of  social  parasites  enriched  by 
plunder  and  extortion.  These  last  come  nearer  than  any 
others  whom  history  presents  to  the  type  of  what  the 

^  Friedltoder,  I,  preface.  While  reading  the  proof  of  this  article,  I  have  read 
Professor  Boccardo's  "Manuale  di  Storia  del  Comercio,  delle  Industrie  e  deU' 
Economia  Politica"  (Torino-Napoli,  1886),  in  which,  pp.  74,  75,  he  expresses 
the  same  view  as  is  above  given  more  nearly  than  I  have  ever  seen  it  elsewhere. 

*  See  Gibbon,  chapter  XXXVIII;  Duruy,  "  Histoire  du  Moyen  Age,"  pp.  233, 
234;  Hallam's  "Middle  Ages,"  chapter  I,  part  II;  Seebohm,  "The  English 
Village  Community,"  chapter  VIII. 

*  See  Taine,  vol.  Ill,  book  V,  chapter  I. 


74  THE   CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

"committee"  in  a  socialistic  state  may  be  expected 
to  be.i 

All  almsgiving  has  the  same  effect,  especially  if  it  is 
forced  by  state  authority.  The  Christian  Church  of 
the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries,  by  its  indiscriminate 
almsgiving  on  a  large  scale,  helped  on  the  degeneration 
of  the  Roman  state.^  A  poor-law  is  only  another  case. 
The  poor-rates,  as  they  become  heavier,  at  last  drive 
into  the  workhouses  the  poorest  of  those  who  have 
hitherto  maintained  independence  and  paid  poor-rates. 
"With  this  new  burden  the  (chance  of  the  next  section 
upward  to  maintain  themselves  is  imperiled,  and  so  on 
indefinitely. 

All  taxation  has  the  same  effect.  It  presses  hardest 
on  those  who,  under  the  conditions  of  their  position 
in  life  and  the  demands  which  are  made  upon  them,  are 
trying  to  save  capital  and  improve  their  circumstances. 
The  heavier  it  becomes,  the  faster  it  crushes  out  this 
class  of  persons  —  that  is,  all  the  great  middle  class  — 
and  the  greater  the  barrier  it  sets  up  against  any  efforts 
of  persons  of  that  class  to  begin  accumulation.  If  the 
taxes  have  for  their  object  to  take  from  some  and  give 
to  others,  as  is  the  case  with  all  protective  taxes,  we 
have  only  a  more  intense  and  obvious  action  in  the  same 
direction,  and  one  whose  effects  must  be  far  greater  and 
sooner  realized.  The  effect  of  protective  taxes  in  this 
country,  to  drive  out  the  small  men  and  to  throw  special 
lines  of  industry  into  the  hands  of  a  few  large  capitalists, 
has  been  noted  often.  It  is  only  a  case  of  the  law  which 
I  am  defining. 

My  generalization  might  even  be  made  broader.  It 
is  the  tendency  of  all  the  hardships  of  life  to  destroy  the 
middle  class.     Capital,  as  it  grows  larger,  takes  on  new 

1  See  Taine,  vol.  Ill,  book  III,  chapter  III.  « Pohlmann,  p.  62. 


WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  75 

increments  with  greater  and  greater  ease.  It  acquires 
a  kind  of  momentum.  The  rich  man,  therefore,  can 
endure  the  shocks  of  material  calamity  and  misfortune 
with  less  distress  the  richer  he  is.  A  bad  season  may 
throw  a  small  farmer  into  debt  from  which  he  can  never 
recover.  It  may  not  do  more  to  a  large  farmer  than 
lessen  one  year's  income.  A  few  years  of  hard  times  may 
drive  into  bankruptcy  a  great  number  of  men  of  small 
capital,  while  a  man  of  large  capital  may  tide  over  the 
distress  and  put  himself  in  a  position  to  make  great  gains 
when  prosperity  comes  again. 

The  hardships  and  calamities  which  are  strictly  social 
are  such  as  come  from  disorder,  violence,  insecurity, 
covetousness,  envy,  etc.  The  state  has  for  its  function 
to  repress  all  these.  It  appears  from  what  I  have  said 
that  it  is  hard  to  maintain  a  middle  class  on  a  high  stage 
of  civilization.  If  the  state  does  not  do  its  work  prop- 
erly, such  classes,  representing  the  wide  distribution 
of  comfort  and  well-being,  will  die  out.  If  the  state 
itself  gives  license  to  robbery  and  spoliation,  or  enforces 
almsgiving,  it  is  working  to  destroy  the  whole  middle 
class,  and  to  divide  society  into  two  great  classes,  the 
rich  who  are  growing  richer,  not  by  industry  but  by  spo- 
liation, and  the  poor  who  are  growing  poorer,  not  by 
industrial  weakness  but  by  oppression. 

Now,  a  state  which  is  in  any  degree  socialistic  is  in 
that  degree  on  the  line  of  policy  whose  disastrous  effects 
have  here  been  described.  The  state,  it  cannot  too 
often  be  repeated,  has  nothing,  and  can  give  nothing, 
which  it  does  not  take  from  somebody.  Its  victims  must 
be  those  who  have  earned  and  saved,  and  they  must  be 
the  broad,  strong,  middle  classes,  from  whom  alone  any 
important  contributions  can  be  drawn.  They  must  be 
impoverished.     Its  pets,  whoever  they  may  be,  must 


76  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

be  pauperized  and  proletarianized.  Its  agents  alone  — 
that  is,  those  who,  in  the  name  of  the  state,  perform  the 
operation  of  taking  from  some  to  give  to  others  —  can 
become  rich,  and  if  ever  such  a  state  should  be  organ- 
ized they  may  realize  wealth  beyond  the  dreams  of  a 
proconsul. 

To  people  untrained  in  the  study  of  social  forces  it 
may  appear  the  most  obvious  thing  in  the  world  that, 
if  we  should  confiscate  the  property  of  those  who  have 
more  than  a  determined  amount,  and  divide  the  pro- 
ceeds among  those  who  have  less  than  a  certain  amount, 
we  should  strengthen  the  middle  class,  and  do  away  with 
the  two  extremes.  The  effect  would  be  exactly  the 
opposite.  We  should  diminish  the  middle  classes  and 
strengthen  the  extremes.  The  more  we  helped  at  the 
bottom,  the  more  we  should  have  to  help,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  increase  of  the  population  and  the  influx 
of  eager  members  of  "the  house  of  want,"  but  also  on 
account  of  the  demoralization  of  the  lowest  sections  of 
the  middle  class  who  were  excluded.  The  more  we 
confiscated  at  the  top,  the  more  craft  and  fraud  would 
be  brought  into  play  to  escape  confiscation,  and  the  wider 
must  be  the  scope  of  taxation  over  the  upper  middle 
classes  to  obtain  the  necessary  means. 

The  modern  middle  class  has  been  developed  with, 
and  in,  an  industrial  civilization.  In  turn  they  have 
taken  control  of  this  civilization  and  developed  social 
and  civil  institutions  to  accord  with  it.  The  organiza- 
tion which  they  have  made  is  now  called,  in  the  cant  of 
a  certain  school,  "capitalism"  and  a  "capitalistic  sys- 
tem." It  is  the  first  organization  of  human  society  that 
ever  has  existed  based  on  rights.  By  virtue  of  its  own 
institutions,  it  now  puts  itself  on  trial  and  stands  open 
to  revision  and  correction  whenever,  on  sober  and  ra- 


WHAT  MAKES  THE  RICH  RICHER  77 

tional  grounds,  revision  can  be  shown  to  be  necessary 
to  guarantee  the  rights  of  any  one.  It  is  the  first  organ- 
ization of  human  society  that  has  ever  tolerated  dissent 
or  criticism  of  itself.  Nobles  and  peasants  have  never 
made  anything  but  Poland  and  Russia.  The  proletariat 
has  never  made  anything  but  revolution.  The  socialistic 
state  holds  out  no  promise  that  it  will  ever  tolerate  dis- 
sent. It  will  never  consider  the  question  of  reform.  It 
stands  already  on  the  same  footing  as  all  the  old  states. 
It  knows  that  it  is  right,  and  all  right.  Of  course,  there- 
fore, there  is  no  place  in  it  for  reform.  With  extreme 
reconstructions  of  society,  however,  it  may  not  be  worth 
while  to  trouble  ourselves;  what  we  need  to  perceive 
is,  that  all  socialistic  measures,  whatever  their  degree, 
have  the  same  tendency  and  effect.  It  is  they  which 
may  be  always  described  as  tending  to  make  the  rich 
richer  and  the  poor  poorer,  and  to  extinguish  the  inter- 
vening classes. 


THE   CONCENTRATION  OF  WEALTH: 
ITS  ECONOMIC  JUSTIFICATION 


THE   CONCENTRATION   OF   WEALTH:    ITS 
ECONOMIC  JUSTIFICATION! 

[1902] 

The  concentration  of  wealth  I  understand  to  include 
the  aggregation  of  wealth  into  large  masses  and  its  con- 
centration under  the  control  of  a  few.  In  this  sense 
the  concentration  of  wealth  is  indispensable  to  the  suc- 
cessful execution  of  the  tasks  which  devolve  upon  so- 
ciety in  our  time.  Every  task  of  society  requires  the 
employment  of  capital,  and  involves  an  economic  prob- 
lem in  the  form  of  the  most  expedient  application  of 
material  means  to  ends.  Two  features  most  prominently 
distinguish  the  present  age  from  all  which  have  preceded 
it:  first,  the  great  scale  on  which  all  societal  under- 
takings must  be  carried  out;  and  second,  the  trans- 
cendent importance  of  competent  management,  that  is, 
of  the  personal  element  in  direction  and  control. 

I  speak  of  "societal  undertakings"  because  it  is  im- 
portant to  notice  that  the  prevalent  modes  and  forms 
are  not  confined  to  industrial  undertakings,  but  are  uni- 
versal in  all  the  institutions  and  devices  which  have 
for  their  purpose  the  satisfaction  of  any  wants  of  society. 
A  modern  church  is  a  congeries  of  institutions  which 
seeks  to  nourish  good  things  and  repress  evil  ones;  it 
has  buildings,  apparatus,  a  store  of  supplies,  a  staff  of 
employees,  and  a  treasury.  A  modern  church  (parish) 
will  soon  be  as  complex  a  system  of  institutions  as  a 
mediaeval  monastery  was.  Contrast  such  an  establish- 
ment with  the  corresponding  one  of  fifty  years  ago. 

^  Indefendent,  April-June.  1902. 
[81] 


82  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

A  university  now  needs  an  immense  "concentration  of 
wealth"  for  its  outfit  and  work.  It  is  as  restricted  in 
its  work  as  the  corresponding  institution  of  fifty  years 
ago  was,  although  it  may  command  twenty  times  as 
much  capital  and  revenue.  Furthermore,  when  we  see 
that  all  these  and  other  societal  institutions  pay  far 
higher  salaries  to  executive  officers  than  to  workers, 
we  must  recognize  the  fact  that  the  element  of  personal 
executive  ability  is  in  command  of  the  market,  and  that 
means  that  it  is  the  element  which  decides  success.  To 
a  correct  understanding  of  our  subject  it  is  essential  to 
recognize  the  concentration  of  wealth  and  control  as  a 
universal  societal  phenomenon,  not  merely  as  a  matter 
of  industrial  power,  or  social  sentiment,  or  political 
policy. 

Stated  in  the  concisest  terms,  the  phenomenon  is 
that  of  a  more  perfect  integration  of  all  societal  functions. 
The  concentration  of  power  (wealth),  more  dominant 
control,  intenser  discipline,  and  stricter  methods  are  but 
modes  of  securing  more  perfect  integration.  When 
we  perceive  this  we  see  that  the  concentration  of  wealth 
is  but  one  feature  of  a  grand  step  in  societal  evolution. 

Some  may  admit  that  the  concentration  of  wealth  is 
indispensable,  but  may  desire  to  distinguish  between 
joint-stock  aggregations  on  the  one  side  and  individual 
fortunes  on  the  other.  This  distinction  is  a  product 
of  the  current  social  prejudice  and  is  not  valid.  The 
predominance  of  the  individual  and  personal  element 
in  control  is  seen  in  the  tendency  of  all  joint-stock  enter- 
prises to  come  under  the  control  of  very  few  persons. 
Every  age  is  befooled  by  the  notions  which  are  in  fashion 
in  it.  Our  age  is  befooled  by  "democracy";  we  hear 
arguments  about  the  industrial  organization  which  are 
deductions  from  democratic  dogmas   or  which   appeal 


CONCENTRATION  OF  WEALTH  83 

to  prejudice  by  using  analogies  drawn  from  democracy 
to  affect  sentiment  about  industrial  relations.  Industry 
may  be  republican;  it  never  can  be  democratic,  so  long 
as  men  differ  in  productive  power  and  in  industrial  virtue. 
In  our  time  joint-stock  companies,  which  are  in  form 
republican,  are  drifting  over  into  oligarchies  or  monar- 
chies because  one  or  a  few  get  greater  efficiency  of  con- 
trol and  greater  vigor  of  administration.  They  direct 
the  enterprise  in  a  way  which  produces  more,  or  more 
economically.  This  is  the  purpose  for  which  the  organ- 
ization exists  and  success  in  it  outweighs  everything 
else.  We  see  the  competent  men  refuse  to  join  in  the 
enterprise,  unless  they  can  control  it,  and  we  see  the 
stockholders  willingly  put  their  property  into  the  hands 
of  those  who  are,  as  they  think,  competent  to  manage 
it  successfully.  The  strongest  and  most  effective  organ- 
izations for  industrial  purposes  which  are  formed  now- 
adays are  those  of  a  few  great  capitalists,  who  have  great 
personal  confidence  in  each  other  and  who  can  bring 
together  adequate  means  for  whatever  they  desire  to 
do.  Some  such  nucleus  of  individuals  controls  all  the 
great  joint-stock  companies. 

It  is  obvious  that  "concentration  of  wealth"  can  never 
be  anything  but  a  relative  term.  Between  1820  and  1830 
Stephen  Girard  was  a  proverb  for  great  wealth ;  to-day 
a  man  equally  rich  would  not  be  noticed  in  New  York 
for  his  wealth.  In  1848  John  Jacob  Astor  stood  alone 
in  point  of  wealth;  to-day  a  great  number  surpass  him. 
A  fortune  of  $300,000  was  then  regarded  as  constituting 
wealth;  it  was  taken  as  a  minimum  above  which  men 
•were  "rich."  It  is  certain  that  before  long  some  man 
will  have  a  billion.  It  is  impossible  to  criticize  such  a 
moving  notion.  The  concentration  of  capital  is  also 
necessarily  relative  to  the  task  to  be  performed;    we 


84  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

wondered  lately  to  see  a  corporation  formed  which  had 
a  capital  of  a  billion.  No  one  will  wonder  at  such  a 
corporation  twenty-five  years  hence. 

There  seems  to  be  a  great  readiness  in  the  public  mind 
to  take  alarm  at  these  phenomena  of  growth  —  there 
might  rather  seem  to  be  reason  for  public  congratula- 
tion. We  want  to  be  provided  with  things  abundantly 
and  cheaply;  that  means  that  we  want  increased  eco- 
nomic power.  All  these  enterprises  are  efforts  to  satisfy 
that  want,  and  they  promise  to  do  it.  The  public 
seems  to  turn  especially  to  the  politician  to  preserve  it 
from  the  captain  of  industry;  but  when  has  anybody 
ever  seen  a  politician  who  was  a  matfch  for  a  captain  of 
industry  .f*  One  of  the  latest  phenomena  is  a  competi- 
tion of  the  legislatures  of  several  states  for  the  profit  of 
granting  acts  of  incorporation;  this  competition  con- 
sists, of  course,  in  granting  greater  and  greater  powers 
and  exacting  less  and  less  responsibility. 

It  is  not  my  duty  in  this  place  to  make  a  judicial 
statement  of  the  good  and  ill  of  the  facts  I  mention  — 
I  leave  to  others  to  suggest  the  limitations  and  safe- 
guards which  are  required.  It  is  enough  to  say  here 
that  of  course  all  power  is  liable  to  abuse;  if  anybody 
is  dreaming  about  a  millennial  state  of  society  in  which 
all  energy  will  be  free,  yet  fully  controlled  by  paradisaic 
virtue,  argument  with  him  is  vain.  If  we  want  results 
we  must  get  control  of  adequate  power,  and  we  must 
learn  to  use  it  with  safeguards.  If  we  want  to  make 
tunnels,  and  to  make  them  rapidly,  we  have  to  con- 
centrate supplies  of  dynamite;  danger  results;  we  mini- 
mize it,  but  we  never  get  rid  of  it.  In  late  years  our 
streets  have  been  filled  with  power-driven  cars  and  vehi- 
cles; the  risk  and  danger  of  going  on  the  streets  has 
been  very  greatly  increased;   the  danger  is  licensed  by 


CONCENTRATION  OF  WEALTH  85 

law,  and  it  is  inseparable  from  the  satisfaction  of  our 
desire  to  move  about  rapidly.  It  is  in  this  light  that 
we  should  view  the  evils  (if  there  are  any)  from  the 
concentration  of  wealth.  I  do  not  say  that  "he  who 
desires  the  end  desires  the  means,"  because  I  do  not 
believe  that  that  dictum  is  true;  but  he  who  will  not 
forego  the  end  must  be  patient  with  the  incidental  ills 
which  attend  the  means.  It  is  ridiculous  to  attempt 
to  reach  the  end  while  making  war  on  the  means.  In 
matters  of  societal  policy  the  problem  always  is  to  use 
the  means  and  reach  the  end  as  well  as  possible  under 
the  conditions.  It  is  proper  to  propose  checks  and 
safeguards,  but  an  onslaught  on  the  concentration  of 
wealth  is  absurd  and  a  recapitulation  of  its  "dangers'* 
is  idle. 

In  fact,  there  is  a  true  correlation  between  (a)  the 
great  productiveness  of  modern  industry  and  the  conse- 
quent rapid  accumulation  of  capital  from  one  period  of 
production  to  another  and  (6)  the  larger  and  larger 
aggregations  of  capital  which  are  required  by  modern 
industry  from  one  period  of  production  to  another. 
We  see  that  the  movement  is  constantly  accelerated, 
that  its  scope  is  all  the  time  widening,  and  that  the 
masses  of  material  with  which  it  deals  are  greater  and 
greater.  The  dominant  cause  of  all  this  is  the  applica- 
tion of  steatn  and  electricity  to  transportation,  and  the 
communication  of  intelligence  —  things  which  we  boast 
about  as  great  triumphs  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
They  have  made  it  possible  to  extend  eflScient  control, 
from  a  given  central  point,  over  operations  which  may 
be  carried  on  at  a  great  number  of  widely  separated 
points,  and  to  keep  up  a  close,  direct,  and  intimate 
action  and  reaction  between  the  central  control  and  the 
distributed  agents.     That  means  that  it  has  become 


86  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

possible  for  the  organization  to  be  extended  in  its  scope 
and  complexity,  and  at  the  same  time  intensified  in  its 
activity.  Now  whenever  such  a  change  in  the  societal 
organization  becomes  possible  it  also  becomes  inevitable, 
because  there  is  economy  in  it.  If  we  confine  our 
attention  to  industrial  undertakings  (although  states, 
churches,  universities,  and  other  associations  and  insti- 
tutions are  subject  to  the  same  force  and  sooner  or 
later  will  have  to  obey  it)  we  see  that  the  highest  degree 
of  organization  which  is  possible  is  the  one  that  offers 
the  maximum  of  profit;  in  it  the  economic  advantage 
is  greatest.  There  is  therefore  a  gravitation  toward 
this  degree  of  organization.  To  make  an  artificial 
opposition  to  this  tendency  from  political  or  alleged 
moral,  or  religious,  or  other  motives  would  be  to  have 
no  longer  any  real  rule  of  action;  it  would  amount  to 
submission  to  the  control  of  warring  motives  without 
any  real  standards  or  tests. 

It  is  a  consequence  of  the  principle  just  stated  that  at 
every  point  in  the  history  of  civilization  it  has  always 
been  necessary  to  concentrate  capital  in  amounts  large 
relatively  to  existing  facts.  In  low  civilization  chiefs 
control  what  capital  there  is,  and  direct  industry; 
they  may  be  the  full  owners  of  all  the  wealth  or  only 
the  representatives  of  a  collective  theory  of  ownership. 
This  organization  of  industry  was,  at  the  time,  the  most 
efficient,  and  the  tribes  which  had  it  prospered  better 
than  others.  In  the  classical  states  with  slavery  and 
in  the  mediaeval  states  with  serfdom,  the  great  achieve- 
ments which  realized  the  utmost  that  the  system  was 
capable  of  were  attained  only  where  wealth  was  con- 
centrated in  productive  enterprises  in  amounts,  and 
under  management,  which  were  at  the  maximum  of 
what  the  system  and  the  possibilities  of  the  time  called 


CONCENTRATION  OF  WEALTH  87 

for.  If  we  could  get  rid  of  some  of  our  notions  about 
liberty  and  equality,  and  could  lay  aside  this  eighteenth 
century  philosophy  according  to  which  human  society 
is  to  be  brought  into  a  state  of  blessedness,  we  should 
get  some  insight  into  the  might  of  the  societal  organiza- 
tion: what  it  does  for  us,  and  what  it  makes  us  do. 
Every  day  that  passes  brings  us  new  phenomena  of 
struggle  and  effort  between  parts  of  the  societal  organi- 
zation. What  do  they  all  mean?  They  mean  that  all 
the  individuals  and  groups  are  forced  against  each 
other  in  a  ceaseless  war  of  interests,  by  their  selfish 
and  mutual  efforts  to  fulfill  their  career  on  earth  within 
the  conditions  set  for  them  by  the  state  of  the  arts,  the 
facts  of  the  societal  organization,  and  the  current  dogmas 
of  world  philosophy.  As  each  must  win  his  living,  or 
his  fortune,  or  keep  his  fortune,  under  these  conditions, 
it  is  difficult  to  see  what  can  be  meant  in  the  sphere  of 
industrial  or  economic  effort  by  a  "free  man."  It  is  no 
wonder  that  we  so  often  hear  angry  outcries  about 
being  "slaves"  from  persons  who  have  had  a  little  ex- 
perience of  the  contrast  between  the  current  notions  and 
the  actual  facts. 

In  fact,  what  we  all  need  to  do  is  to  be  taught  by  the 
facts  in  regard  to  the  notions  which  we  ought  to  adopt, 
instead  of  looking  at  the  facts  only  in  order  to  pass 
judgment  on  them  and  make  up  our  minds  how  we  will 
change  them.  If  we  are  willing  to  be  taught  by  the 
facts,  then  the  phenomena  of  the  concentration  of  wealth 
which  we  see  about  us  will  convince  us  that  they  are  just 
what  the  situation  calls  for.  They  ought  to  be  because 
they  are,  and  because  nothing  else  would  serve  the 
interests  of  society. 

I  am  quite  well  aware  that,  in  what  I  have  said,  I 
have  not  met  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  people  who  are 


88  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

most  troubled  about  the  "concentration  of  wealth." 
I  have  tried  to  set  forth  the  economic  necessity  for  the 
concentration  of  wealth;  and  I  maintain  that  this  is  the 
controlling  consideration.  Those  who  care  most  about 
the  concentration  of  wealth  are  indiflFerent  to  this  con- 
sideration; what  strikes  them  most  is  the  fact  that  there 
are  some  rich  men.  I  will,  therefore,  try  to  show  that 
this  fact  also  is  only  another  economic  justification  of 
the  concentration  of  wealth. 

I  often  see  statements  published,  in  which  the  ob- 
jectors lay  stress  upon  the  great  inequalities  of  fortune, 
and,  having  set  forth  the  contrast  between  rich  and 
poor,  they  rest  their  case.  What  law  of  nature,  religion, 
ethics,  or  the  state  is  violated  by  inequalities  of  fortune? 
The  inequalities  prove  nothing.  Others  argue  that 
great  fortunes  are  won  by  privileges  created  by  law  and 
not  by  legitimate  enterprise  and  ability.  This  state- 
ment is  true,  but  it  is  entirely  irrelevant;  we  have  to 
discuss  the  concentration  of  wealth  within  the  facts  of 
the  institutions,  laws,  usages,  and  customs  which  our 
ancestors  have  bequeathed  to  us  and  which  we  allow  to 
stand.  If  it  is  proposed  to  change  any  of  these  parts 
of  the  societal  order,  that  is  a  proper  subject  of  discus- 
sion, but  it  is  aside  from  the  concentration  of  wealth. 
So  long  as  tariffs,  patents,  etc.,  are  part  of  the  system 
in  which  we  live,  how  can  it  be  expected  that  people  will 
not  take  advantage  of  them;  what  else  are  they  for? 
As  for  franchises,  a  franchise  is  only  an  x  until  it  has 
been  developed.  It  never  develops  itself;  it  requires 
capital  and  skill  to  develop  it.  When  the  enterprise  is 
in  the  full  bloom  of  prosperity  the  objectors  complain 
of  it,  as  if  the  franchise,  which  never  was  anything  but 
an  empty  place  where  something  might  be  created,  had 
been   the   completed   enterprise.     It   is   interesting   to 


CONCENTRATION  OF  WEALTH  89 

compare  the  exploitation  of  the  telephone  with  that  of 
the  telegraph  fifty  years  earlier.  The  latter  was,  in 
its  day,  a  far  more  wonderful  invention,  but  the  time 
and  labor  required  to  render  it  generally  available  were 
far  greater  than  what  has  been  required  for  the  tele- 
phone, and  the  fortunes  which  were  won  from  the 
former  were  insignificant  in  comparison  with  those 
which  have  been  won  from  the  latter.  Both  the  public 
and  the  promoters  acted  very  differently  in  the  two 
cases.  In  these  later  times  promoters  seize  with  avidity 
upon  an  enterprise  which  contains  promise,  and  they 
push  it  with  energy  and  ingenuity,  while  the  public  is 
receptive  to  "improvements";  hence  the  modern  meth- 
ods offer  very  great  opportunities,  and  the  rewards  of 
those  men  who  can  "size  up"  a  situation  and  develop 
its  controlling  elements  with  sagacity  and  good  judg- 
ment, are  very  great.  It  is  well  that  they  are  so,  because 
these  rewards  stimulate  to  the  utmost  all  the  ambitious 
and  able  men,  and  they  make  it  certain  that  great  and 
useful  inventions  will  not  long  remain  unexploited  as 
they  did  formerly.  Here  comes,  then,  a  new  reaction 
on  the  economic  system;  new  energy  is  infused  into  it, 
with  hope  and  confidence.  We  could  not  spare  it  and 
keep  up  the  air  of  contentment  and  enthusiastic  cheer- 
fulness which  characterizes  our  society.  No  man  can 
acquire  a  million  without  helping  a  million  men  to 
increase  their  little  fortunes  all  the  way  down  through 
all  the  social  grades.  In  some  points  of  view  it  is  an 
error  that  we  fix  our  attention  so  much  upon  the  very 
rich  and  overlook  the  prosperous  mass,  but  the  compen- 
sating advantage  is  that  the  great  successes  stimulate 
emulation  the  most  powerfully. 

WTiat  matters  it  then  that  some  millionaires  are  idle, 
or  silly,  or  vulgar;   that  their  ideas  are  sometimes  futile 


90  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

and  their  plans  grotesque,  when  they  turn  aside  from 
money-making?  How  do  they  differ  in  this  from  any 
other  class?  The  milhonaires  are  a  product  of  natural 
selection,  acting  on  the  whole  body  of  men  to  pick  out 
those  who  can  meet  the  requirement  of  certain  work  to 
be  done.  In  this  respect  they  are  just  like  the  great 
statesmen,  or  scientific  men,  or  military  men.  It  is  be- 
cause they  are  thus  selected  that  wealth  —  both  their 
own  and  that  intrusted  to  them  —  aggregates  under  their 
hands.  Let  one  of  them  make  a  mistake  and  see  how 
quickly  the  concentration  gives  way  to  dispersion.  They 
may  fairly  be  regarded  as  the  naturally  selected  agents  of 
society  for  certain  work.  They  get  high  wages  and  live  in 
luxury,  but  the  bargain  is  a  good  one  for  society.  There 
is  the  intensest  competition  for  their  place  and  occupa- 
tion. This  assures  us  that  all  who  are  competent  for 
this  function  will  be  employed  in  it,  so  that  the  cost  of  it 
will  be  reduced  to  the  lowest  terms;  and  furthermore  that 
the  competitors  will  study  the  proper  conduct  to  be  ob- 
served in  their  occupation.  This  will  bring  discipline  and 
the  correction  of  arrogance  and  masterfulness. 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR^ 

[1886] 

Any  one  who  has  attentively  read  the  discussion  of 
the  so-called  labor  question  during  the  past  few  months, 
must  have  observed  that  a  strict  definition  of  terms  and 
phrases  is  the  first  thing  needed  in  the  discussion,  and 
the  one  thing  that  has  most  been  wanting.  The  loose 
use  of  terms  tolerated  by  the  economists  has  been  ex- 
tended by  the  newspapers,  adopted  erroneously  by  the 
preachers,  abused  by  the  professional  labor  reformers, 
and  finally  entirely  misunderstood  by  the  employed, 
until  the  popular  notion  of  the  matter  has  become  little 
else  than  a  tangle  of  fallacies  and  misconceptions  of 
social  facts,  relations,  and  possibilities.  He  who  says 
*' social,"  nowadays,  takes  license  to  promulgate  vague 
and  whimsical  notions  or  projects,  having  for  their  gen- 
eral aim  to  bridge  the  traditional  gulf  between  meum 
and  tuum,  or  to  take  from  one  of  his  neighbors  and  give 
to  another,  according  to  his  good  judgment  of  what 
would  be  more  "just."  As  an  illustration  of  misuse  of 
terms  I  mention  the  use  of  "capital  and  labor"  to  des- 
ignate employer  and  employee,  and  as  an  illustration 
of  the  abuse  of  catch  phrases  I  refer  to  the  almost  suicidal 
misuse  of  "An  injury  to  one  is  an  injury  to  all"  in  the 
south-western  strike. 

The  only  attempt  I  have  met  with,  in  this  discussion, 
to  define  what  the  labor  question  is,  formulated  it  in  this 
way :  "  With  the  growth  of  democracy  the  political  power 
has  passed  into  the  hands  of  a  numerical  majority,  while 

»  The  Forum,  Vol.  II,     September,  1886. 
[931 


94  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

property  is  in  the  hands  of  a  minority.  There  is  there- 
fore danger  lest  the  former  use  the  political  power  to 
plunder  the  latter,  unless  the  latter  conciliate  the  former 
by  timely  concessions."  If  this  were  the  question,  it 
would,  no  doubt,  be  serious  enough.  It  would  mean  that 
political  institutions  are  not  the  safeguard  of  liberty 
and  property  under  democracy,  any  more  than  they 
were  such  under  older  political  forms;  but  that  they  are 
still  only  convenient  means  for  those  who  can  control 
the  institutions  to  violate  liberty  and  property  to  their 
own  advantage.  It  would  mean  that  all  our  boasted 
political  progress  was  in  question,  for  institutions  that 
cannot  guarantee  property  cannot  be  stable.  Democ- 
racy would  either  have  to  yield  at  once  to  communism, 
as  the  only  realization  of  its  own  principles,  or  it  would 
be  overthrown  by  a  monarchical  reaction  to  secure  prop- 
erty. Furthermore,  if  the  question  were  as  stated,  it 
would  be  one  that  would  arise  amongst  the  property 
classes,  and  would  be  suggested  by  alarm  for  their  in- 
terests; it  would  not  be  a  question  raised  amongst  the 
employed,  and  bearing  on  their  struggle  for  their  in- 
terests. The  question  would  therefore  be  a  political 
question  and  a  property  question;  it  would  not  be 
a  labor  question. 

If  I  attempt,  out  of  the  vague,  sentimental,  and  de- 
clamatory expressions  of  the  parties  interested,  and  their 
friends,  to  formulate  the  question  they  try  to  raise,  it 
seems  to  me  to  be  this :  How  can  those  who  have  neither 
land  nor  capital,  and  who  must  therefore  enter  the  or- 
ganization of  society  as  wage-workers,  get  their  living,  or 
get  a  better  living,  or  get  more  than  they  now  get  out  of 
the  stock  of  goods  in  society,  for  the  productive  effort 
which  they  put  into  the  work  of  society?  The  socialists 
answer  this  question  by  saying  that  a  committee  should 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  95 

be  appointed  to  apportion  the  work  of  society,  and  dis- 
tribute the  product,  according  to  some  standards  which 
each  school  of  socialists  says  can  easily  be  defined,  but 
upon  which  no  two  schools  are  agreed.  The  professorial 
socialists  say  that  some  more  "just"  distribution  ought 
to  be  found,  that  supply  and  demand  will  not  do,  that 
the  socialistic  schemes  will  not  do,  and  that  "ethics'* 
must  be  asked  to  decide.  The  press,  the  pulpit,  the 
politicians  —  all  who  solicit  the  power  that  the  wages- 
class,  by  virtue  of  numbers,  now  possesses  —  stand 
eagerly  ready  to  flatter  and  cajole  it  by  any  proposal 
or  proposition  that  will  please  it. 

Is  the  question  above  stated  properly  raised,  or  prop- 
erly forced  upon  public  attention?  I  venture  to  main- 
tain that  it  is  not.  The  question  of  how  we  shall  get 
our  living  is  common  to  all  of  us  but  that  insignificant 
minority  which  has  inherited  land  or  capital  enough  to 
support  a  family  without  work.  The  question  is  no 
more  anxious  and  perplexing  to  artisans  or  handicrafts- 
men than  it  is  to  the  mass  of  the  farmers,  lawyers,  doc- 
tors, clergymen,  teachers,  book-keepers,  merchants,  and 
editors,  or  to  the  aged,  invalid,  women,  and  others  who 
depend  upon  small  investments.  It  is  constantly  alleged 
in  vague  and  declamatory  terms  that  artisans  and  un- 
skilled laborers  are  in  distress  and  misery  or  are  under 
oppression.  No  facts  to  bear  out  these  assertions  are 
offered.  The  wages-class  is  not  a  pauper  class.  It  is 
not  a  petitioner  for  bounty  nor  a  social  burden.  The 
problem  how  that  part  of  society  is  to  earn  its  living  is 
not  a  public  question;  it  is  not  a  class  question.  The 
question  how  to  earn  one's  living,  or  the  best  living  pos- 
sible in  one's  circumstances,  is  the  most  distinctly  indi- 
vidual question  that  can  be  raised.  A  great  deal  might 
be  done,  by  instruction  and  exhortation,  to  inform  the 


96  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

individual  mind  and  conscience  —  especially  of  par- 
ents —  so  that  this  question  might  be  more  wisely 
solved  than  it  now  is.  Such  would  be  a  legitimate  field 
for  discussion,  and  the  social  consequences  of  foresight 
and  early  self-denial,  such  as  are  now  employed  by  the 
best  parents  and  young  people  amongst  us,  would  be 
incalculable;  but  no  public  question  can  properly  be 
raised  as  to  how  some  shall  make  it  easier  for  others  to 
get  a  living,  when  the  first  are  already  fully  burdened 
with  the  task  of  getting  a  living  for  themselves.  Here, 
as  at  every  other  point  in  any  unbiased  attempt  to  deal 
with  this  subject,  it  is  found  that  the  real  question 
is  whether  we  shall  maintain  or  abandon  liberty  with 
responsibility. 

It  is  sometimes  said  to  be  a  shocking  doctrine  that  the 
employee  enters  into  a  contract  to  dispose  of  his  energies, 
because  this  would  put  him  on  the  same  plane  with  com- 
modities. This  objection  has  been  current  amongst  the 
German  professorial  socialists  for  years,  and  it  has  re- 
cently been  made  much  of  here  by  those  who  catch 
eagerly  at  the  sentimental  aspects  of  this  subject.  Every 
man  who  earns  his  living  uses  up  his  vital  energy.  He 
may  till  his  own  land  and  live  on  his  own  product,  or  he 
may  raise  a  product  and  contract  it  away  in  exchange 
for  what  he  wants,  or  he  may  contract  away  his  time,  or 
his  productive  energies,  or  "himself,"  for  the  commodi- 
ties that  he  needs  for  his  maintenance.  In  the  first 
case,  there  is  no  social  relation  at  all.  In  the  last  two 
cases,  no  distinction  can  be  made  affecting  the  dignity 
or  the  interests  of  the  man  which  is  anything  more  than 
a  dialectical  refinement.  The  lawyer,  doctor,  clergyman, 
teacher,  and  editor  each  makes  a  commodity  of  himself 
just  as  much  as  the  handicraftsman  does;  each  renders 
services  that  wear  him  out;  each  takes  pay  for  his  ser- 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  07 

vices;  each  is  "exploited"  just  as  much  by  those  who 
pay  as  the  handicraftsman  is.  We  men  have  a  way  of 
inflating  ourselves  with  big  words  on  this  earth,  as  if  we 
thus  gained  dignity  or  were  any  the  less  bound  down  to 
toil  and  suffering.  If  wages  were  abolished,  or  if  the 
socialistic  state  were  established,  not  a  feature  of  the 
case  would  be  altered.  Men  would  be  worn  out  in  main- 
taining their  existence,  and  the  only  question  would  be 
just  what  it  is  now:  Can  each  one  get  more  maintenance 
for  a  given  expenditure  of  himself  by  living  in  isolation, 
or  by  joining  other  men  in  mutual  services? 

The  wages  system,  then,  is  part  of  the  industrial  or- 
ganization. An  American  farmer  is  his  own  landlord, 
tenant,  and  laborer;  if  he  finds  it  hard  to  get  a  living,  he 
has  no  employer  against  whom  he  can  strike;  he  may 
curse  the  ground,  or  shake  his  fist  in  the  face  of  heaven, 
but  that  will  not  help  him.  He  must  either  work 
harder  or  cut  down  his  enjoyments  to  the  measure  of 
his  production.  If,  however,  the  three  interests  are  sep- 
arated in  a  higher  organization  of  society — if  the  farmer 
makes  a  contract  by  which  he  yields  the  use  of  his  land 
to  another,  and  himself  becomes  a  landlord,  and  if  the 
new  tenant  employs  a  laborer,  then  the  personal  rights 
and  interests  of  three  men  come  into  play,  and  impinge 
upon  each  other  at  every  change  which  before  would 
have  affected  different  interests  of  the  same  person. 
The  first  farmer  could  not  as  employee  strike  against 
himself  as  employer,  but  the  three  new  parties  have  an- 
tagonistic interests  which  must  be  adjusted  and  read- 
justed from  time  to  time  by  some  force  or  other.  If, 
then,  we  regard  the  economic  forces  of  supply  and  de- 
mand as  the  only,  the  proper,  and  the  inevitable  regula- 
tors of  the  complex  and  highly  refined  interests  that  arise 
between  the  members  of  a  highly  organized  society. 


98  THE  CH.\LLENGE  OF  FACTS 

then  "justice"  can  mean  nothing  but  the  unrestricted 
play  of  supply  and  demand.  Nobody  will  be  bound  to 
cease  grumbling  at  the  result,  but  each  will  accept  it  as 
the  best  that  he  could  get  in  a  world  of  toil  and  disap- 
pointment. He  will  be  satisfied  that  his  neighbors  have 
not  robbed  him.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  do  not  be- 
lieve that  there  are  any  economic  forces  at  work  in  the 
matter,  or  that,  if  there  are  any,  they  work  under  any 
necessary  laws,  then  we  must  regard  the  adjustment  of 
interests  as  a  product  of  arbitrary  effort.  There  can 
then  be  no  right  and  no  justice  at  all;  the  only  thing  to 
be  expected  is  war,  industrial  war,  carried  on  by  the 
parties  in  interest  each  for  himself  and  to  the  utmost. 
Such  is  the  only  result  to  which  we  can  come,  and  the 
socialists  have  generally  reached  it.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  it  is  a  clear  issue  between  two  schools  of  political 
economy  which  are  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other. 
If  there  are  economic  laws,  then  it  behooves  us  to  find 
them  out  and  submit  to  them;  for  they  must  control  all 
economic  interests,  and  only  under  them  can  we  estab- 
lish peace,  order,  and  justice.  If  there  are  no  economic 
laws,  then  war  is  the  normal  and  only  possible  condition 
of  society,  unless  we  take  refuge  under  the  pitiless  des- 
potism of  the  socialistic  state,  with  its  hierarchy  of  vol- 
luptuaries  at  the  top  and  the  stolid  barbarism  of  its 
brutish  masses  at  the  bottom.  To  reject  the  economic 
laws,  accept  the  condition  of  industrial  war,  and  then 
look  to  "ethics"  to  rule  the  social  tempest,  is  beneath 
discussion. 

An  industrial  war  is  not  like  a  military  combat.  It  is 
an  extension  of  the  old  commercial  war,  which  consisted 
in  inflicting  a  positive  harm  on  one's  self  in  the  hope  of 
causing  a  contingent  harm  to  one's  enemy.  It  is  at  best 
like  the  schoolboy  game  known  as  "cutting  jackets." 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  99 

The  industrial  war  simply  aims  to  see  who  can  stand  it 
longest.  It  is  currently  asserted  that  a  man  has  a  right 
to  strike.  That  assertion  involves  one  of  the  incorrect 
uses  of  the  word  "right,"  which  are  so  common  in  this 
discussion.  When  a  man  "strikes"  he  exercises  his 
will  under  liberty,  that  is  to  say,  he  exercises  a  preroga- 
tive, for  it  is  the  first  prerogative  of  a  free  man  to  make  or 
unmake  contracts.  He  is  also  at  liberty  under  our  in- 
stitutions, as  at  present  existing,  to  combine  with  others 
of  the  same  interest  and  the  same  way  of  thinking. 
However  the  other  party  to  the  contract  has  the  same 
liberty.  Hence,  when  both  employers  and  employees 
combine,  the  battle  is  set  for  the  industrial  war. 

There  is  a  form  of  strike  that  would  not  be  irrational, 
and  would  be  in  accordance  with  sound  political  econ- 
omy; that  is,  if  the  employees  should  all  stop  work, 
maintaining  that  the  employer  could  not  fill  their  places 
except  on  the  terms  demanded  by  them,  and  should  put 
their  contention  to  the  test  by  waiting  to  see  whether  he 
could  or  not.  A  lockout  would  be  rational  in  the  con- 
verse and  corresponding  case.  It  would  then  cost  loss 
of  time  to  the  parties  interested,  but  nothing  more  to 
them  and  nothing  to  anybody  else.  A  strike,  in  which 
the  employees  take  possession  of  the  plant  and  hinder 
others  from  taking  their  places,  is  inconsistent  with  the 
peace  and  order  of  a  modern  civilized  state.  Such  a 
device  having  once  been  employed,  must  inevitably  be 
developed  and  elaborated  in  the  efifort  to  make  it  suc- 
ceed. It  could  only  produce  anger  and  retaliation.  It 
is  an  effort  to  coerce  one  of  the  parties  to  a  bargain.  Un- 
doubtedly a  man  who  has  a  bargain  to  make  will  do 
wisely  to  strengthen  himself  by  all  means  in  his  power 
for  the  negotiation;  but  the  man  who  pays  wages  parts 
with  his  capital,  and,  if  he  parts  with  it  on  terms  to  which 


100  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

he  is  coerced,  he  is  wronged.  He,  in  his  turn,  then,  will 
defend  his  interests  to  the  utmost. 

The  two  chief  extensions  of  the  strike  which  have  been 
made  in  the  way  of  perfecting  the  methods  of  industrial 
war  are  the  more  intense  organization  and  discipline  of 
the  employees  and  the  boycott.  The  former  has  pro- 
duced a  conflict  of  organized  with  unorganized  labor,  and 
would,  if  it  could  be  carried  out,  outlaw  any  employee 
who  should  choose  to  preserve  his  independence  and 
liberty.  The  employees,  while  denouncing  monopoly, 
have  here  employed  the  monopoly  principle  in  its  most 
outrageous  form,  and  they  seek  to  raise  wages  by  crush- 
ing any  one  who  will  not  come  into  the  close  combina- 
tion which  they  regard  as  essential  to  the  coercion  they 
hope  to  exercise.  In  reaching  about  for  means  of  this 
coercion,  they  have  employed  the  strike  to  compel  the 
employer  to  become  their  ally  and  discharge  any  one  who 
stays  out  of  their  organization. 

The  boycott  is  a  further  attempt  to  find  a  point  of  re- 
action for  the  coercive  apparatus.  The  original  case  of 
boycotting,  from  which  the  device  got  its  name,  was  very 
generally  approved,  or  at  least  not  condemned,  because 
it  was  set  in  operation  against  an  Irish  landlord.  It 
was  plain  in  that  case,  however,  what  the  device  was,  and 
how  monstrous  an  innovation  it  was  in  a  civilized  society. 
If,  without  process  of  law,  a  man  can  be  so  extruded 
from  human  society  that  he  cannot  buy  or  sell,  hire, 
let,  beg,  borrow,  lend,  employ,  or  be  employed,  what 
becomes  of  the  security  of  life,  liberty,  or  property?  Of 
course  no  such  result  could  be  brought  about  unless  the 
boycotters  could  bring  terrorism  to  bear  on  the  whole 
community,  including,  at  last,  jurors,  judges,  and  wit- 
nesses, to  force  people  who  are  not  parties  to  the  quarrel 
to  depart  from  the  legal  and  peaceful  enjoyment  of  their 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  101 

own  will  and  pleasure  to  take  part  in  the  boycott.  It 
is  the  severest  trial  to  which  our  institutions  have  yet 
been  put,  to  see  whether  they  can  protect  in  his  rights 
a  man  who  has  incurred  for  any  reason  unpopularity 
amongst  a  considerable  number  of  his  neighbors,  or 
whether  democratic  institutions  are  as  powerless  in  this 
case  as  aristocratic  institutions  were  when  a  man  incurred 
the  hostility  of  a  great  noble. 

The  doctrines  that  are  preached  about  the  relations 
of  employer  and  employee  would  go  to  make  that  re- 
lationship one  of  status  and  not  of  contract,  with  the 
rights  and  duties  unevenly  divided.  The  relationship 
would  then  be  one  like  marriage,  entered  by  contract, 
but,  when  once  entered  upon,  not  solvable  except  by 
some  process  of  divorce,  and,  while  it  lasts,  having  its 
rights  and  duties  defined  by  law.  It  is  very  remarkable 
that  just  when  all  feudal  relations  between  landlord  and 
tenant  are  treated  with  disdain  and  eagerly  assailed, 
there  should  be  an  attempt  to  establish  feudal  relations 
between  employer  and  employee.  An  employer  has  no 
obligation  whatever  to  an  employee  outside  of  the  con- 
tract, any  more  than  an  editor  has  to  his  subscribers,  or 
a  merchant  to  his  customers,  or  a  house-owner  to  his 
tenants,  or  a  banker  to  his  depositors.  In  a  free  demo- 
cratic state  employees  are  not  wards  of  the  state;  they 
are  not  like  Indians,  or  freedmen,  or  women,  or  children. 
If  it  can  be  shown  that  any  law  or  custom  of  our  society 
keeps  down  the  man  who  is  struggling  for  himself,  every 
fair-minded  man  could  and  would  join  the  agitation 
for  its  removal;  but  when  we  are  asked  to  create  priv- 
ileges or  tolerate  encroachments,  resistance  is  equally  a 
social  duty. 

These  extravagant  and  cruel  measures,  therefore,  pro- 
duce war  inside  of  our  society.     Industrial  factions  arise. 


102  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

which  are  organized  under  monarchical  or  oligarchic 
forms,  and  which  threaten  to  carry  out  their  program 
at  all  cost  to  the  community.  They  are  doomed  to  fail. 
They  will  not  be  overcome  by  conciliation  and  conces- 
sion because  they  are  not  animated  by  the  spirit  from 
which  any  concession  will  secure  peace,  but  only  larger 
demands.  They  will  fail  because  they  will  come  into 
collision  with  the  sober  sense  of  the  community.  It  is 
indeed  a  great  experiment  to  grant  the  fullest  liberty 
and  the  greatest  political  equality,  in  the  faith  that  the 
unsuccessful  will  not  only  regard  without  envy  the  pros- 
perity of  the  successful,  but  also  will  help  to  secure  and 
defend  it;  but  it  is  a  fallacy  in  every  point  of  view  that, 
because  those-who-have-not  outnumber  those-who-have, 
therefore  those-who-have-not  will  plunder  those-who- 
have.  Still  more  certainly,  the  measures  that  have  been 
used  to  assist  the  employed  class  against  the  employers 
will  fail,  because  they  are  irrational  and  at  war  with 
economic  forces.  There  are  a  great  many  cases  in  soci- 
ology where  the  sum  of  the  parts  is  not  the  whole,  but 
is  zero.  The  trades-union  is  one  of  them;  a  national 
trades-union,  or  an  international  trades-union,  of  all 
employees,  instead  of  being  invincible  would  be  nil.  If 
by  all  going  out  to-day  all  could  force  an  advance  in 
wages,  by  all  going  back  to-morrow  all  would  restore 
the  old  rate.  The  human  race  cannot  lift  itself  by  the 
boot-straps  in  this  way  any  more  than  in  any  other.  If 
we  want  more  wages,  the  only  way  to  get  them  is  by 
working,  not  by  not  working. 


A  PARABLE 


A  PARABLE » 

A  CERTAIN  respectable  man  had  three  sons,  who  grew 
up,  lived,  and  died  in  the  same  city. 

The  oldest  one  turned  his  back  at  an  early  age  on 
study.  Being  eager  to  earn  something  at  once,  he  ob- 
tained employment  driving  a  grocer's  delivery  wagon. 
He  never  acquired  a  trade,  but  was  a  teamster  or  driver 
all  his  life.  In  his  youth  he  spent  all  his  spare  time  with 
idle  companions  and  devoted  his  earnings  to  beer,  to- 
bacco, and  amusement.  At  twenty-two  he  fell  in  love 
and  married.  He  had  six  children  who  scrambled  part 
way  through  the  public  grammar  school  after  a  negli- 
gent fashion,  but  cost  as  much  money  and  more  of  the 
teachers'  time  than  if  they  had  been  regular  and  stu- 
dious. This  son  never  earned  over  two  dollars  a  day 
except  on  election  day,  when  he  earned  five  or  more, 
according  to  circumstances.  He  never  had  ten  dollars 
in  his  possession  over  and  above  his  debts. 

The  second  son  was  the  scholar  of  the  family.  By 
energy,  perseverance,  and  self-denial  he  managed  to  get 
a  professional  education.  He  married  at  thirty,  being 
in  the  receipt  of  an  adequate  income  from  his  profession, 
but  not  yet  having  accumulated  any  capital.  He  had 
three  children  who  were  all  educated  in  the  public  gram- 
mar and  high  schools,  and  his  son  went  to  the  university, 
which  was  a  state  institution  supported  by  taxation. 
His  wife  had  strong  social  ambition,  and,  although  he 
had  early  trained  himself  in  habits  of  frugality  and  pru- 
dence, he  found  himself  forced  to  enlarge  his  expendi- 

*  For  approximate  date,  see  preface. 
[105] 


106  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tures  quite  as  rapidly  as  his  income  increased;  so  that, 
although  he  earned  at  last  several  thousand  dollars  a 
year,  he  left  no  property  when  he  died. 

The  third  son  had  no  taste  for  professional  study,  but 
he  had  good  sense  and  industry.  He  was  apprenticed  to 
a  carpenter.  He  spent  his  leisure  time  in  reading  and 
formed  no  expensive  habits.  As  soon  as  he  began  to  re- 
ceive wages  he  began  to  save.  On  account  of  his  care, 
diligence,  and  good  behavior,  he  was  made  an  under- 
foreman.  The  highest  earnings  he  ever  obtained  were 
$1,500  per  year.  At  thirty  years  of  age  he  had  saved 
$2,000.  He  then  married.  He  invested  his  savings  in 
a  homestead,  but  was  obliged  to  incur  a  debt  which  it 
took  him  years  of  patient  struggle  to  pay.  He  had  three 
children  who  went  through  the  public  grammar  school, 
but  he  was  not  able  to  support  them  through  the  high 
school  and  college.  When  he  died  he  left  the  homestead 
clear  of  debt  and  nothing  more. 

The  oldest  son  never  paid  a  cent  of  local  or  direct  tax 
in  his  life.  The  second  son  never  paid  any.  The  third 
paid  taxes  from  the  time  he  was  twenty-two,  when  he 
first  began  to  save,  and  while  the  mortgage  rested  on 
his  homestead,  he  paid  taxes  on  his  debt  as  well  as  on 
his  property.  The  taxes  which  he  paid  went  to  pay  for 
police,  lights,  sewers,  public  schools,  public  charity, 
state  university,  public  prison,  public  park,  and  public 
library,  and  also  for  soldiers'  monuments,  public  celebra- 
tions, and  all  forms  of  occasional  public  expenditure. 
His  brothers  and  his  brothers'  children  all  enjoyed  these 
things  as  much  as,  or,  as  we  have  seen,  more  than  he  and 
his  children. 

The  oldest  brother  borrowed  constantly  of  the  two 
others,  and  he  and  his  children  availed  themselves 
freely  of  the  privileges  of  relationship.     Inasmuch  as  the 


A  PARABLE  107 

second  brother,  in  spite  of  his  large  income,  was  con- 
stantly in  pecuniary  straits,  it  was  the  youngest  who  was 
the  largest  creditor  of  the  oldest.  The  oldest  was  an 
earnest  greenbacker  with  socialistic  tendencies,  and  the 
only  payment  he  ever  made  to  the  youngest  was  in  the 
way  of  lectures  on  the  crimes  of  capital,  the  meanness 
of  capitalists,  and  the  equality  of  all  men.  The  oldest 
died  first.  Two  of  his  children  were  still  small  and  the 
older  ones  were  a  cause  of  anxiety  to  their  relatives  on 
account  of  careless  habits  and  unformed  character.  The 
second  son,  or  to  be  more  accurate,  his  wife,  would  not, 
for  social  reasons,  take  charge  of  the  orphans,  and  they 
fell  to  the  care  of  the  youngest  brother,  although  the 
second,  while  he  lived,  contributed  to  their  maintenance. 
The  neighbors  differed  greatly  in  their  views  of  this 
family.  Some  called  the  oldest  poor  and  the  other  two 
rich.  Some  called  the  two  oldest  poor  and  the  other 
rich.  Some  called  the  oldest  and  youngest  poor  and  the 
second  rich.  As  the  facts  were  all  known  throughout 
the  neighborhood,  it  was  found  to  be  a  very  interest- 
ing and  inexhaustible  subject  of  debate.  Some  people 
compared  the  first  and  second  and  moralized  on  the  ine- 
quality of  the  distribution  of  wealth  —  one  living  in 
poverty  and  the  other  in  luxury.  This  state  of  things 
was  generally  regarded  as  very  "unjust"  to  the  oldest 
brother.  He  was  fond  of  demonstrating  that  it  was  so 
to  anyone  who  would  listen.  Nobody  ever  was  known 
to  refer  to  the  youngest  brother  as  the  victim  of  any 
injustice.  The  oldest  brother  was  liked  and  pitied  by 
everybody.  The  second  was  very  popular  in  his  circle. 
The  third  was  not  very  well  known  and  was  not  popular 
with  anybody. 


THE  DEMAND  FOR  MEN 


THE  DEMAND  FOR  MEN^ 

To  every  individual  the  history  of  the  world  begins 
and  ends  in  himself.  Each  man  finds  it  hard,  if  not 
impossible,  to  imagine  the  world  without  himself,  that 
is,  to  imagine  that  he  had  never  been  born.  Our  way 
of  looking  at  history  is  to  treat  all  which  has  been  done 
here  as  a  preparation  for  us,  and  our  current  construc- 
tion of  the  life  of  the  world  is  that  the  sufferings  of  the 
past,  and  its  achievements,  have  their  sense  through  their 
utility  in  contributing  to  our  welfare.  Once  in  a  while 
we  do  also  speak  about  our  obligations  to  posterity,  as 
if  we  did  feel  that  our  way  of  thinking  about  the  past 
brought  with  it  a  corollary  that  we  are  only  links  in 
the  chain  of  preparation  for  others  yet  farther  on;  at 
this  point,  however,  there  is  a  notable  drop  in  the  inten- 
sity of  interest  and  conviction  with  which  the  idea  is 
pursued.  Further,  in  all  our  speculations  about  the 
future  we  probably  conceive  of  ourselves  as  present  and 
as  part  of  the  future,  and  rarely,  if  ever,  does  the  speaker 
himself  realize  that  he  will  drop  out  of  the  host  in  its 
march  and  disappear  from  its  activity,  lost  and  for- 
gotten like  a  thistle-down  which  floated  for  a  moment 
on  the  summer  breeze. 

To  the  individual,  therefore,  it  is  hard  to  realize  that 
he  is  not  needed  here;  that  his  existence,  however  in- 
teresting and  important  to  himself,  is  of  no  consequence 
to  the  world;  that  if  he  had  never  been  born  he  never 
would  have  been  missed;  that  the  men  in  all  history  who 

^  The  following  fourteen  essays  come  from  the  Independent  of  various 
dates  between  1887  and  1891. 

[1111 


112  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

have  proved  by  their  life  and  works  that  the  world  did 
need  them  and  could  illy  have  spared  them,  are  not  more 
than  a  score  or  two. 

Much  more  is  it  a  remarkable  idea  that  men  in  gen- 
eral should  ever  be  in  demand.  If  we  do  not  go  beyond 
current  habits  of  thought,  we  think  that  the  world  was 
made  for  men,  that  it  has  no  significance  without  men; 
that  its  existence  is,  as  it  were,  a  call  or  demand  for 
men;  that  of  course  we  all  ought  to  be  here,  and,  having 
come,  that  we  ought  to  be  made  welcome  and  honorably 
provided  for.  Our  complaints  are  for  the  most  part  com- 
plaints of  those  very  conditions  of  earthly  life  by  virtue 
of  which  it  is  possible  that  we  may  be  here.  If  there  is 
any  "banquet  of  life"  offered,  by  the  fact  that  the  world 
is  here,  we  find  that  there  are  a  great  number  of  us  who 
have  come  to  be  guests  at  it  and  that  there  is  a  hungry 
crowd  of  other  animals,  upon  whom  we  look  down  as 
not  fit  to  dispute  the  banquet  with  us,  but  who  defend 
their  possession  of  it  with  as  much  ferocity  and  tenacity 
as  if  they  were  revolutionists  and  could  declaim  about 
natural  rights.  Our  assumption  is  that  we  should  all 
be  here,  under  any  circumstances  whatever,  and  that 
the  provision  for  us  here  is,  or  ought  to  be,  somewhere 
on  hand. 

Unfortunately  none  of  these  ideas  can  be  verified  by 
an  examination  of  the  facts.  We  are  not  needed  here  at 
all;  the  world  existed  no  one  knows  how  long  without 
any  men  on  it.  They  were  never  missed  by  the  other 
forms  of  nature,  who  absorbed,  enjoyed,  and  gave  back 
again  into  the  cosmos  the  energy  and  the  material  of 
organized  existence,  generation  after  generation;  and 
there  is  no  room  for  any  idea  that  the  universe  suffered 
any  lack  or  fell  short  of  anything  which  was  necessary 
to  keep  it  going  on  in  a  round  of  transformations  and 


THE  DE]MAND  FOR  MEN  113 

repetitions  which  were  adequate  to  the  maintenance 
of  all  there  was.  There  is  no  need  for  man  and  no 
demand  for  man,  in  nature;  it  is  complete  without  him. 

When  he  appears  on  earth  he  does  not  appear  as  one 
needed,  but  as  another  competitor  for  a  place  here.  He 
is  infinitely  interesting  to  himself,  and  he  has  constructed 
for  the  gratification  of  his  vanity  whole  systems  of  my- 
thology and  philosophy  to  prove  to  himself  that  the 
rest  has  sense  only  as  used  up  by  him.  In  truth  he  is 
here  like  the  rest,  on  the  tenure  of  sustaining  himself  if 
he  can.  The  curse  of  the  self-glorification  of  the  human 
species  is  that  it  blinds  them  to  the  truth  of  their  situa- 
tion, keeps  them  from  intelligent  effort  to  make  the  best 
of  it,  and  sets  them  to  rending  each  other  when  their 
demands  are  not  satisfied. 

It  is  therefore  a  most  extraordinary  state  of  things  on 
earth  —  a  revolution  —  when  men  are  in  demand,  that 
is,  not  only  welcome,  but  subject  to  economic  demand, 
so  that  their  presence  will  be  paid  for;  and  the  social 
consequences  of  such  a  state  of  affairs,  when  it  occurs, 
stand  in  such  contrast  to  the  state  when  men  are  in  ex- 
cessive supply  that  the  mind  of  man  is  astounded  to 
contemplate  the  difference.  It  will  be  found  that  the 
glorification  of  modern  progress,  modern  ideas,  and  so 
on,  resolves  itself  into  this  "revolution"  which  causes 
all  the  others. 

It  must  be  noticed  that  the  demand  for  men  is  not  a 
demand  for  human  beings;  this  distinction  cannot  be 
passed  over,  since  the  neglect  of  it  has  helped  to  prevent 
an  understanding  of  the  point  we  are  now  presenting. 
The  human  race  reproduces  and  increases,  but  unfortu- 
nately its  new-born  members  are  a  burden,  the  heaviest 
one  which  society  has  to  bear.  Between  initial  help- 
lessness and  capacity  for  self-maintenance  lies  a  period 


114  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

of  cost,  or  outlay,  by  the  adult  generation.  Here  again 
we  come  on  the  same  fact,  that  there  is  no  demand  for 
men  in  the  sense  of  human  beings,  since  cost  and  outlay 
are  never  an  object  of  demand  but  are  in  the  nature  of 
a  penalty  or  sacrifice  for  a  good  not  otherwise  attainable. 
When  savage  races  practice  infanticide,  it  is  because 
they  rate  the  cost  higher  than  the  return;  the  self -cen- 
tered view  of  the  adult,  mentioned  above,  then  pre- 
dominates entirely.  For  him  the  world  begins  and  ends 
in  himself,  and  the  sacrifice  he  must  endure  to  perpetu- 
ate the  species,  being  just  so  much  reduction  from  the 
individual  enjoyment  which  he  might  get  out  of  life 
(which  is  the  case  always  touching  the  sacrifices  of 
parents  for  offspring),  seems  to  him  to  present  no  con- 
sideration. 

It  is  therefore  only  when  there  is  a  demand  for  adults 
that  there  arises  a  demand  for  human  beings  which 
makes  the  cost  of  rearing  them  sink  into  comparative 
unimportance.  When  children  are  welcome  as  new 
power,  instead  of  being  unwelcome  as  new  burdens,  the 
real  social  revolution  is  accomplished.  The  book  of 
Genesis  presents,  in  the  case  of  the  patriarchs,  a  state 
of  things  in  which  more  children  meant  more  power, 
and  the  texts  which  express  that  fact  in  the  social  situ- 
ation of  that  time  have  sometimes  been  used  as  giving 
an  absolute  religious  sanction  to  special  views  of  the 
significance  of  the  increase  of  the  species. 

An  economic  demand  is  one  which  is  backed  up  by  an 
equivalent  offered  in  reward  for  a  satisfaction  of  it,  and 
the  demand  for  men  is  subject  to  the  same  interpreta- 
tion, or  it  is  a  fiction.  The  payment  which  must  be 
brought  into  the  labor  market  as  an  equivalent  to 
support  the  demand  for  men  is  means  of  subsistence; 
if  men  are  wanted  they  must  be  subsisted,  and  they  must 


THE  DEMAND  FOR  MEN  115 

be  subsisted  in  such  rich  measure  that  they  can  sustain 
not  only  themselves  but  also  wives  and  little  ones  to 
maintain  the  increase.  Means  of  subsistence,  however, 
are  not  raw  land,  for  the  latter,  like  the  infants,  is  a  long 
stage  from  the  labor  market.  If  raw  land  were  a  de- 
mand for  men,  that  would  mean  that  nature  demands 
men  —  which,  as  we  saw  at  the  outset,  is  not  true.  Na- 
ture does  not  come  into  the  market;  she  offers  no  equiva- 
lents in  exchange;  she  presents  no  means  of  subsistence 
which  are  capable  of  sustaining  more  than  the  scantiest 
numbers  in  the  lowest  misery.  The  terms  of  the  case 
in  no  wise  apply  to  her,  and  all  those  who,  when  dis- 
cussing these  matters,  allow  themselves  to  philosophize 
about  "boons  of  nature,"  and  "banquets  of  life"  are  only 
spinning  delusions. 

The  means  of  subsistence  are  capital-products  which 
men  who  are  already  here  have  made  and  are  ready  to 
share  with  new-comers,  as  a  means  to  persuade  others 
to  come.  This  is  the  demand  for  men.  We  are  accus- 
tomed to  call  it  "demand  for  labor,"  and  this  phrase, 
blinding  us  to  the  facts  by  a  technical  relation  put  in 
place  of  the  real  one,  is  the  great  cause  of  some  of  the 
foolish  notions  about  wages  which  have  been  set  afloat, 
and  which  have  become  the  prolific  cause  of  social  and 
industrial  fallacies.  The  case  which  is  new,  anomalous, 
astounding,  is  the  one  in  which  the  men  who  are  already 
here  not  only  do  not  dread  new-comers  or  treat  them 
with  hostility,  but  even  pay  them,  out  of  the  products 
of  their  own  previous  labor,  to  come.  That  is  a  true 
demand  for  men.  When  it  arises,  men  rise  in  market 
value,  with  consequences  which  are  next  to  be  noted. 

Here  it  remains  only  to  point  out  that  the  reason  why 
those  already  here  will  hire  others  to  come,  continually 
raising  their  bid,  is  that  by  bringing  in  more  human 


^.-' 


116  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

labor  they  can  raise  the  industrial  organization  to  a 
higher  grade  and  increase  the  production  per  man  from 
the  land  at  their  disposal,  so  that  the  increase  in  numbers 
will  increase,  not  diminish,  the  average  rate  of  comfort 
for  all. 

This  last  remark  exposes  the  fallacy  of  the  arguments 
which  are  made  against  immigration,  for  immigration 
supplies  the  men,  and  without  cost  of  production  on 
them,  for  the  community  which  gets  them. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  DEMAND 
FOR  MEN 


THE    SIGNIFICANCE   OF   THE    DEMAND 

FOR  MEN 

To  some  people  it  appears  a  shame  to  say  that  men  are 
subject  to  supply  and  demand;  to  others  it  seems  that 
we  want  to  know  the  facts  about  man  and  the  world 
in  which  he  lives,  just  as  they  are,  without  regard  to 
anything  else  whatsoever.  To  the  latter,  therefore,  it 
seems  irrelevant  and  idle  to  talk  about  what  is  consonant 
with,  or  what  is  hostile  to  man's  notions  of  his  own 
dignity.  It  will  be  found  that  men  are  subject  to  supply 
and  demand,  that  the  whole  industrial  organization  is 
regulated  by  supply  and  demand,  and  that  any  correct 
comprehension  of  the  existing  industrial  system  must 
proceed  from  supply  and  demand. 

After  Gracchus  conquered  Sardinia,  slaves  were  so 
abundant  at  Rome  that  "cheap  as  a  Sardinian"  passed 
into  a  proverb;  Roman  slavery  owed  its  peculiar  harsh- 
ness and  cold-heartedness  to  the  fact  that  slaves  were 
so  abundant  at  Rome  in  the  last  century  of  the  Republic 
that  it  did  not  pay  to  spare  them.  The  policy  in  regard 
to  slave  marriage  was  such  as  to  prevent  their  natural 
increase.  When,  later,  conquest  declined  and  slaves 
were  fewer,  their  treatment  became  far  more  humane, 
not  because  Romans  were  less  cold-hearted  (they  were, 
in  fact,  more  so),  but  because  slaves  grew  rarer  and 
more  valuable.  Probably  this  state  of  things  also 
helped  to  convert  slaves  into  coloni. 

Sir  Henry  Maine  says  that  want  and  distress  con- 
verted men  into  beasts  of  burden  in  the  later  days  of  the 
Carlovingians.     The   reason   for   this   seems   clear.     It 

[119  1 


120  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

was  that  the  conditions  of  existence  in  the  society  of 
the  time  were  such  that  men  were  reduced  again  to  the 
first  necessities,  with  only  the  most  meager  means  of 
satisfying  them.  The  population  was,  therefore,  declin- 
ing, and  the  wretched  men  who  were  living  struggled 
with  each  other  in  desperate  agony,  or  endeavored  to 
win  subsistence  from  nature  under  the  hardest  con- 
ceivable exertion.  Any  one,  therefore,  who  at  that 
time,  by  any  means  whatsoever,  possessed  a  store  of 
means  of  subsistence  or  could  command  resources,  could 
have  men  under  his  control  without  number. 

At  those  times  human  life  was  held  most  cheap,  and 
physical  pain  or  distress  was  scarcely  noticed.  When 
a  thousand  men  could  be  sent  to  death  at  a  Roman 
feast,  how  could  Romans  be  expected  to  hold  human 
life  dear  or  to  shudder  at  bloodshed.''  When  fist-law 
prevailed,  and  every  man's  hand  was  against  every 
other  man,  when  any  one  who  had  anything  could  be 
sure  of  it  only  so  long  as  he  could  command  force  to 
defend  it,  it  is  not  strange  that  torture  and  cruelty  were 
practised  in  this  world  and  that  the  current  conceptions 
of  punishment  in  the  other  world  should  make  the  blood 
of  the  modern  man  run  cold. 

In  general,  then,  when  the  men  are  too  numerous  for 
the  means  of  subsistence,  the  struggle  for  existence  is 
fierce.  The  finer  sentiments  decline;  selfishness  comes 
out  again  from  the  repression  under  which  culture  binds 
it;  the  social  tie  is  loosened;  all  the  dark  sufferings  of 
which  humanity  is  capable  become  familiar  phenomena. 
Men  are  habituated  to  see  distorted  bodies,  harsh  and 
frightful  diseases,  famine  and  pestilence;  they  find  out 
what  depths  of  debasement  humanity  is  capable  of. 
Hideous  crimes  are  perpetrated;  monstrous  supersti- 
tions are  embraced  even  by  the  most  cultivated  members 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THIS  DEMAND  121 

of  society;  vices  otherwise  inconceivable  become  com- 
mon, and  fester  in  the  mass  of  society;  culture  is  lost; 
education  dies  out;  the  arts  and  sciences  decline.  All 
this  follows  for  the  most  simple  and  obvious  of  all 
reasons:  because  a  man  whose  whole  soul  is  absorbed 
in  a  struggle  to  get  enough  to  eat,  will  give  up  his  man- 
ners, his  morals,  his  education,  or  that  of  his  children, 
and  will  thus,  step  by  step,  withdraw  from  and  surrender 
everything  else  in  order  simply  to  maintain  existence. 
Indeed,  it  is  a  fact  of  familiar  knowledge  that,  under  the 
stress  of  misery,  all  the  finer  acquisitions  and  sentiments 
slowly  but  steadily  perish. 

The  converse  of  this  statement,  however,  is  true; 
and  it  is  for  the  sake  of  the  converse  that  we  have  now 
set  forth  what  has  already  been  said.  If  the  subsistence 
of  men  is  in  excess  of  the  number  of  men,  all  the  opposite 
results  are  produced,  for  in  that  case  the  demand  is  in 
excess  of  the  supply.  The  all-important  thing  under 
supply  and  demand  is  to  know  how  the  conjuncture 
stands.  The  party  in  the  market  whose  demand  for 
the  goods  of  others  is  low  while  their  demand  for 
his  goods  is  high,  has  command  of  the  market,  and  the 
conjuncture  is  said  to  be  in  his  favor;  on  the  other 
hand,  he  whose  demand  for  the  products  of  others  is 
high,  while  their  demand  for  his  products  is  low,  is  at  a 
disadvantage  in  the  market,  and  the  conjuncture  is 
against  him.  He,  therefore,  who  brings  only  his  natural, 
unskilled  powers  to  market,  when  many  others  are 
offering  the  same  thing,  will  win  but  meager  subsistence 
from  the  stock  of  food,  clothing,  etc.,  in  the  market; 
on  the  other  hand,  he  who  brings  personal  services  to 
market,  when  human  energy  is  eagerly  wanted  to 
develop  land  and  apply  capital  at  the  hand  of  those 
who  possess  land  and  capital,  will  be  able  to  demand 


122  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

large  quotas  of  the  existing  stock  of  subsistence  in  return 
for  a  day's  time  spent  in  supplying  the  thing  which  is 
in  demand  and  without  which  the  other  conditions  of 
abundance  and  prosperity  cannot  be  made  available. 

With  this  observation  we  strike  out  and  lay  aside 
nearly  all  the  so-called  labor  question,  and  nearly  all 
the  mystery  of  the  alleged  conflict  of  labor  and  capital. 
The  conjuncture  is  in  favor  of  the  laborer,  technically 
so-called;  accordingly  he  can,  to  a  great  degree,  have 
his  own  way  with  the  other  parties  in  the  market. 

We  have  not,  however,  developed  our  proposition 
merely  for  the  sake  of  this  negative  and  controversial 
result.  On  the  contrary,  its  importance  lies  in  the  de- 
duction yet  to  be  made  of  the  sense  and  significance  of 
a  state  of  the  labor  market,  continuing  for  centuries,  in 
which  the  conjuncture  is  in  favor  of  the  unskilled  la- 
borers. Such  has  been  the  case,  if  we  take  the  terms 
of  the  proposition  in  their  broadest  and  most  liberal 
sense,  since  the  great  discoveries  of  the  sixteenth  century 
which  opened  the  outlying  continents  to  the  masses  of 
the  population  of  Europe. 

Whenever  a  period  in  which  men  are  in  demand 
supervenes  upon  a  period  in  which  they  have  been 
present  in  excess,  the  struggle  for  existence  is  softened. 
The  disregard  of  human  life  and  human  suffering  gives 
place  to  the  contrary  sentiments.  It  might  seem  to  be 
logical  that  when  all  were  suffering,  all  would  sympathize 
with  each  other  and  that  when  many  were  well  off, 
they  would  become  inwrapped  in  selfish  indifference  to 
the  few  who,  by  exception,  were  suffering;  but  this  is 
one  of  the  cases,  of  which  there  are  so  many  in  social 
science,  in  which  observation  corrects  the  easy  inference. 
It  warns  us  again  that  what  seems  a  simple  and  easy 
deduction  is  not  even  presumptively  true.     It  is  when 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THIS  DEMAND  123 

all  are  suffering  that  men  become  callous  to  suffering; 
each  sees  in  it  what  may  be  his  own  fate  a  moment 
later;  it  comes  to  be  regarded  as  usual,  natural,  a  part 
of  the  human  lot.  On  the  other  hand,  when  most  are  in 
comfort  and  prosperity,  misery  pains  them;  it  seems  to 
be  exceptional,  unreasonable,  unnecessary;  their  sym- 
pathies are  painfully  excited  and  for  their  own  relief 
they  seek  to  do  away  with  it. 

When  men  are  in  demand  the  average  comfort  is 
high;  the  grinding  labor  which  distorts  the  body  and 
superinduces  diseases  is  avoided;  the  diet  is  good; 
the  worst  maladies  from  poor  food,  unwholesome  crowd- 
ing, unsanitary  modes  of  living,  and  the  like  are  done 
away  with.  Our  discussions  run  on  as  if  unsanitary 
arrangements  in  our  homes  and  cities  were  totally  un- 
necessary; but  we  ought  to  understand  that  nothing 
but  the  possession  of  capital  in  a  certain  degree  of 
abundance  enables  us  to  take  up  the  question  of  sani- 
tary arrangements  at  all.  If  we  had  unlimited  means 
we  could  absolutely  set  aside  all  danger  from  unsanitary 
conditions.  If  we  were  poor,  we  should  have  to  submit 
to  the  perils  and  fatalities  of  unsanitary  arrangements 
without  remedy. 

Other  illustrations  on  the  same  line  of  thought  will 
follow. 


WHAT  THE   "SOCIAL  QUESTION"  IS 


WHAT  THE   "SOCIAL  QUESTION"   IS 

We  have  before  us  the  idea  that  no  social  effect  can 
be  produced  without  an  adequate  cause;  there  can  be 
no  result  which  we  may  not  account  for,  upon  suitable 
study,  by  the  forces  which  were  at  work  behind  it.  It 
is  a  favorite  notion  that  "ideas"  are  causes,  that 
"thought"  is  a  force,  and  that  sentiment,  or  feeling, 
may  control  society.  Intellectual  affections  of  any  kind 
whatsoever  may  determine  the  direction  in  which  force 
shall  be  exerted;  but  they  are  not  forces  which  are 
eflBcient  to  produce  results.  It  is  impossible  to  stir  a 
step  in  any  direction  which  has  been  selected  without 
capital:  we  cannot  subsist  men,  i.e.,  laborers,  without 
it;  we  cannot  sustain  study  or  science  without  it;  we 
cannot  recruit  the  wasted  energies  of  the  race  without 
it;  we  cannot  win  leisure  for  deliberation  without  it; 
we  cannot,  therefore,  undertake  greater  tasks,  that  is, 
make  progress,  without  it. 

It  is  the  possession  of  an  abundance  of  capital  which 
sets  us  free  to  write  and  wrangle  about  "social  ques- 
tions"; it  is  the  possession  of  abundance  of  capital 
which  enables  us-  to  maintain  "progress,"  and  spend 
largely  upon  philanthropy,  and  increase  our  numbers 
at  the  same  time.  This  point  is  worth  a  little  more 
elucidation;  when  we  get  a  social  science  this  will  be 
one  of  the  controlling  points  of  view  in  it. 

The  first  task  of  men  is  self-maintenance,  or  nutri- 
tion; the  second  is  the  maintenance  of  the  race.  The 
two  tasks  are  in  antagonism  with  each  other,  for  they 
are  both  demands  on  one  source  of  power,  viz.,  the  pro- 

[127  1 


128  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

ductive  power  of  the  individual.  The  interplay  of  these 
two  inthe  family  has  been  touched  upon  before,  and  it 
is  by  no  means  limited  to  the  family;  this  interplay 
extends  through  the  whole  social  domain.  If  the 
social  body  undertakes  more  social  burdens,  it  increases 
the  second  demand  on  the  individual,  and  contracts  his 
power  of  self-maintenance.  From  this  there  is  no 
possible  escape,  and  it  may  readily  be  seen  how  far  much 
of  our  current  social  discussion  is  from  touching  the 
merits  of  the  social  questions,  because  it  fails  to  run 
upon  the  lines  which  are  laid  down  for  all  discussion  by 
this  observation  of  the  conditions  of  the  case.  What  is 
true,  and  what  helps  to  explain  the  current  modes  of 
thought,  is  the  fact  that  the  capital  at  the  disposal  of 
society  is  so  great  that  the  diminutions  of  individual 
well-being  by  social  burdens  all  fall  upon  an  outside 
margin  of  superfluity,  and  so  do  not  reach  to  the  limits 
of  actual  necessity  or  crush  the  producer  down  to 
misery. 

If  the  social  burdens  of  government,  public  philan- 
thropy, public  defense,  public  entertainment  and  amuse- 
ment, public  glory,  public  education,  did  subtract  from 
the  product  of  the  society  to  such  an  extent  as  to  produce 
misery,  this  would  react  upon  the  numbers,  and  it 
would  do  it  in  different  ways.  It  would  make  the 
producer  less  able  to  support  children  and  bring  them 
to  maturity,  and  it  would  force  the  society  to  give  up 
part  of  the  effort  by  which  it  now  maintains  indigent 
and  defective  classes. 

Therefore  there  has  never  been  a  period  of  civiliza- 
tion in  which  there  has  not  been  a  social  question,  and 
it  is  safe  to  say  that  no  time  ever  will  come  when  there 
will  not  be  a  social  question.  In  a  state  of  barbarism 
the  social  question  consists  in  this:    whether  the  tribe 


WHAT  THE  "SOCIAL  QUESTION"  IS  129 

can  maintain  its  numbers,  or  fighting  strength,  and  at 
the  same  time  do  its  fighting.  The  competition  of  life 
is  then  between  tribe  and  tribe.  The  Zulus,  for  instance, 
solved  it  by  stealing  all  their  wives,  that  is,  they  let 
others  bear  the  expense  of  bringing  up  the  wives  for 
them;  they  also  were  forbidden  to  marry  except  by 
permission  of  the  king,  which  he  never  gave  except  to  a 
meritorious  warrior  who  had  served  ten  or  fifteen  years. 
Other  organizations  equally  remarkable  have  been 
devised  for  solving  the  problem,  but  my  point  now  is, 
that  there  is  a  problem,  and  that  it  cannot  be  solved 
except  by  some  adequate  and  appropriate  application 
of  industrial  force.  The  current  notion  is  that  there  is 
not,  or  need  not  be,  or  ought  not  to  be  any  such  prob- 
lem, and  that  if  there  is  such  an  apparent  problem,  all 
that  is  necessary  is  to  "pass  a  law"  such  as  some  social 
speculator  will  easily  devise. 

In  the  higher  forms  of  civilization  there  always  has 
been  a  "social  question."  The  modern  democratic 
temper  is  irritated  by  a  mention  of  social  classes;  I 
have  heard  it  indignantly  denied  that  there  are  classes 
among  us.  The  mediaeval  classes  were  defined  by 
status,  that  is,  by  rank  and  birth;  the  one  heteroge- 
neous social  element  was  the  middle  class  population  of 
the  towns.  That  class  was  industrial  by  its  definition; 
its  power  came  from  capital,  of  which  it  was  the  maker 
and  possessor.  The  other  classes  needed  capital  more  and 
more  —  hence  the  strife  of  land  and  city,  of  noble 
and  bourgeoisie,  of  rank  and  capital.  The  social  ques- 
tions of  the  last  five  hundred  years  have  turned  on  these 
antagonisms.  They  are  by  no  means  reduced  to  peace- 
ful harmony  yet,  and  they  play  a  large  part  in  the  expo- 
sitions of  the  socialists,  especially  when  the  latter 
take  an  historical  turn. 


ISO  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

The  middle  class,  having  substantially  won  its  vic- 
tory, has  begun,  by  the  inevitable  tendency  of  all  such 
massive  social  movements,  to  break  up  into  sections 
which  quarrel  with  each  other.  Of  course  new  differen- 
tiations have  begun  inside  of  it.  Peasants,  artisans, 
and  bourgeoisie  allied  with  each  other  against  a  common 
foe,  viz.y  hereditary  right;  but,  having  broken  the  power 
of  that  tradition,  they  must  of  course  put  another 
notion  in  its  place.  They  introduced  free  contract  and 
competition.  This  is  no  sooner  done,  however,  than 
new  groups  are  formed  having  antagonistic  interests 
inside  of  the  new  society.  The  result  is  industrial 
classes,  or  social  groupings  formed  upon  economic  and 
industrial  relations. 

This  new  grouping  is,  in  fact,  a  grand  advance,  for  it 
is  a  new  and  higher  organization  and  it  signifies  increased 
industrial  power;  but  it  is  inevitably  attended  by  a  new 
"social  question,"  produced  by  the  struggle  of  these 
classes.  The  great  question  about  which  the  whole 
struggle  turns  is,  of  course,  this:  whether  some  one 
class  is  getting  its  share  of  the  fruits  of  the  common 
victory.  The  victory  has  been  social  so  far  as  it  has 
meant  the  emancipation  of  classes  and  the  endowment 
of  all  with  equal  rights  before  the  law;  it  has  been  a 
victory  over  the  ills  of  life  so  far  as  it  has  consisted  in 
the  acquisition  of  capital  as  power  to  have  and  do. 
This  power  of  capital  has  been  becoming  constantly 
more  valuable  both  for  luxury,  leisure,  and  enjoyment, 
and  also  for  social  control.  The  social  question  appears 
in  the  form  of  a  complaint  that  the  non-capitalists  have 
been  put  off  with  "liberty"  and  "equal  rights"  in  order 
that  they  might  have  no  share  in  the  capital,  that  is, 
in  the  leisure  and  luxury  for  which  the  age  is  athirst. 


WHAT  THE  "SOCIAL  QUESTION"  IS         131 

Our  current  literature  bears  ample  testimony  to  the 
correctness  of  what  is  here  asserted  about  the  social 
question.  If  we  should  deny  that  there  are  classes  in 
our  society  we  should  only  prove  our  inability  to  recog- 
nize constant  social  elements  under  the  changed  phases 
in  which  they  present  themselves. 

The  point  which  I  now  beg  to  emphasize  is  this:  if 
there  had  been  no  victory,  there  would  be  no  social 
question  in  its  present  form.  If  there  had  not  been  an 
immense  enhancement  of  luxury,  culture,  and  power, 
the  classes  and  the  masses  would  never  have  come  into 
antagonism  to  each  other.  The  popular  conception  of 
it  is  that  a  common  victory  has  been  won  (that  is,  the 
victory  over  nature  by  the  acquisition  of  more  indus- 
trial power)  and  that  some  have  taken  all  the  fruits, 
leaving  to  others  nothing.  Hence  the  demand  for 
justice  and  equality  and  the  passionate  assertion  of 
the  obligation  of  classes  to  each  other.  Hence,  also, 
the  attempt  to  use  the  other  victory  (that  over  class 
privilege  in  the  domain  of  civil  institutions)  to  rectify 
the  wrong  done  in  the  industrial  domain. 

If  it  were  true  that  a  part  of  those  who  have  won  the 
social  and  industrial  victories  had  been  deprived  of  their 
share  in  the  fruits  thereof,  then  they  would  have  no  hope 
of  compelling  any  attention  to  their  complaints,  for 
they  would  have  no  force  at  their  disposal.  The  fact 
that  they  can  raise  a  social  question  and  push  on  the 
fight  over  it  proves  that  they  have  some  power  at  their 
command.  Mediaeval  peasants  had  very  few  rights 
and  scarcely  any  property;  they  could  defend  them- 
selves only  by  some  wild  outbreak,  like  the  Jacquerie, 
which  did  no  good.  The  modern  non-capital  classes 
are  in  no  such  condition  as  that. 


182  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

What  force  have  they  then?  It  is  no  doubt  promptly 
answered,  "Numbers."  Numbers,  however,  are  a  source 
of  weakness,  not  of  strength,  unless  there  is  ample  capital 
for  their  support.  If  there  were  here  large  numbers  of 
men  who  were  on  the  verge  of  starvation,  they  would 
submit  to  any  terms  in  order  to  get  food.  Men  who  had 
capital  (which  we  must  always  remember  is  subsistence, 
weapons,  and  tools)  could  hire  armies  of  them  to  do  any 
work  which  was  demanded  of  them.  It  is,  therefore, 
only  because  we  all  do  share  in  the  fruits  of  the  indus- 
trial victory  and  in  the  power  of  the  capital  which  has 
been  won,  that  we  have  extra  power  with  which  to  main- 
tain our  social  conflicts.  Democracy  constantly  vaunts 
itself  against  capital,  and  sets  the  power  of  numbers 
against  the  power  of  "money,"  but  democracy,  the 
power  of  the  masses,  is  the  greatest  proof  of  the  power 
of  capital,  for  democracy  cannot  exist  in  any  society 
unless  the  physical  conditions  of  social  power  are  present 
there  in  such  abundance,  and  in  such  general  distribu- 
tion, that  all  the  mass  of  the  population  is  maintained 
up  to  the  level  below  which  they  can  not  perform  the 
operations  which  democracy  assumes  that  they  can  and 
will  perform. 

It  is,  therefore,  the  demand  for  men,  consisting  in 
the  capital  and  tools  on  hand,  ready  for  their  support 
and  use,  which  maintains  a  number  of  men  on  a  level 
where  they  can  struggle  to  get  all  the  material  welfare 
which  the  labor  market  really  holds  for  them,  and  where 
they  can  be  democrats  and  win  both  full  civil  rights  and 
a  share,  perhaps  a  predominant  share,  in  political  power. 
This  is  the  only  correct  explanation  of  the  power  of  the 
masses  in  politics  and  in  the  labor  market;  for  it  is  the 
only  one  which  refers  the  phenomena  to  an  adequate 
and  appropriate  cause  whose  due  connection  with  the 


WHAT  THE  "SOCIAL  QUESTION"  IS         133 

phenomena  can  be  perceived  through  the  social  rela- 
tions. Of  course  this  explanation  is  in  direct  contra- 
diction to  such  explanations  as  refer  the  phenomena  to 
sentimental,  ethical,  doctrinal,  or  political  causes,  con- 
sisting in  the  tenets  of  this  or  that  social  philosophy. 


WHAT  EMANCIPATES 


WHAT   EMANCIPATES 

It  is  an  incident  of  the  tendency  to  realism  of  our  time 
that  historical  studies  have  won  in  esteem.  This  is 
undoubtedly  a  great  gain;  but  it  is  attended  by  a  series 
of  affectations  such  as  are  apparently  inseparable  from 
a  new  movement.  We  must  have  a  new  code  of  histori- 
cal study  before  the  abuses  of  history  can  be  set  aside; 
nowhere  is  this  need  more  apparent  than  in  economic 
history  and  in  the  history  of  social  institutions.  It  is 
hardly  too  much  to  say  that  the  received  opinions  about 
the  historical  development  of  social  forces  are  all  in- 
correct; that  is  to  say,  they  are  one-sided,  imperfect, 
colored  by  prejudices  of  various  schools  of  philosophy, 
or  so  stated  as  to  support  pet  notions  of  our  time.  The 
student  of  history,  therefore,  finds  himself  constantly 
forced  to  modify  the  most  currently  received  statements 
of  fact,  or  he  finds  that  the  historical  facts,  when  cor- 
rectly understood,  take  on  very  different  significance 
even  if  the  formal  statement  of  them  is  allowed  to  stand. 

No  history  is  good  for  anything  except  as  it  is  inter- 
preted correctly;  and  it  is  in  the  interpretation  that  the 
chance  is  offered  for  all  the  old  arbitrary  elements  of 
philosophy  and  personal  prejudice  to  come  in,  as  well  as 
some  new  ones  peculiar  to  this  field  of  study.  Especially 
when  the  interpretations  are  wide,  and  step  over  great 
periods  of  history  in  grand  strides,  is  it  safe  to  say  that 
they  are  worthless,  because  it  is  impossible  to  verify 
them.  Almost  any  generalization  can  find  a  color  of 
truth,  if  the  historical  scope  of  it  is  wide  enough.  It  is 
a  very  school-boy  notion  that  historical  generalizations 

11371 


138  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

have  any  less  peril  in  them  than  philosophical  generali- 
zations. 

These  remarks  are  especially  worthy  of  affirmation 
whenever  our  attention  is  invited  to  alleged  interpreta- 
tions of  the  social  developments  of  modern  times,  and 
when  assertions  are  made  about  the  causes  and  signifi- 
cance of  the  phases  through  which  civilization  has  passed 
during  the  last  five  hundred  years.  The  contrast  of  the 
Middle  Ages  with  our  time;  the  status  of  classes  then 
and  now;  the  effect  of  machinery;  the  rise  of  the 
captain  of  industry;  the  alleged  advancing  inequality 
of  fortunes  —  such  are  topics  which  invite  to  the  easiest 
possible  generalization.  Within  twenty -five  years  there 
have  been  put  in  circulation,  and  are  to  be  found  now 
in  current  use  as  established  facts,  assertions  on  all 
these  points  which  are  really  no  better  than  myths. 

I  submit  that  nothing  but  power  can  account  for 
results  and  that,  therefore,  if  men  have  been  emanci- 
pated from  any  ills,  it  must  be  that  they  have  been 
emancipated  by  virtue  of  new  power  of  some  kind,  over 
which  they  have  obtained  disposal.  Therefore  explana- 
tions of  the  expansion  of  human  well-being  may  be 
offered  which  are  "historical"  in  the  sense  of  referring 
to  notions  which  were  once  in  fashion,  or  to  acts,  ordi- 
nances, and  resolutions  which  were  once  upon  a  time 
adopted;  but  such  explanations  win  no  value  from  their 
pretended  "historical"  character.  They  do  not  allege 
an  adequate  cause.  No  men  have  ever  emancipated 
themselves  from  slavery,  poverty,  ignorance,  vice,  or 
any  other  ill,  by  simply  resolving  to  do  so.  No  men, 
so  far  as  I  can  learn,  have  ever  reached  the  point  of 
adopting  a  grand  resolution  to  emancipate  themselves 
from  distress,  unless  they  had  some  new  power  at  their 
disposal,  which  raised  them  to  a  new  plane  on  which 


WHAT  EMANCIPATES  '  189 

such  new  adjustment  of  themselves  to  their  past  and 
their  future  was  possible. 

It  is  an  easy  assumption,  and  one  which  seems  to  be 
adopted  without  discussion,  that  men  who  break  into 
revolt  must  be  worse  off  than  other  men.  There  are 
no  facts  to  support  such  an  opinion.  Men  who  are  low, 
and  are  falling,  do  not  revolt;  it  is  men  who,  although 
they  may  be  low,  are  rising,  who  revolt.  Men  who  are 
on  the  verge  of  starvation  do  not  strike  for  higher  wages; 
it  is  only  men  who  have  strength  to  spare  who  spend  any 
of  it  on  a  strike.  It  is  the  man  who  is  rising  whose  am- 
bition is  awakened;  it  is  he  before  whose  mind  new  hopes 
arise,  for,  having  won  something,  a  man's  mind  always 
opens  to  the  idea  of  winning  more.  On  the  contrary, 
he  who  has  always  lost  ground  or  has  never  been  able  to 
win  any,  has  neither  energy  nor  will  to  engage  in  a 
contest  which  involves  more  than  the  satisfaction  of 
the  moment.  How  could  it  be  otherwise.'*  We  must 
learn  to  observe  and  to  think  in  social  matters  as  we  do 
in  others.  An  extra  expenditure  of  energy  is  an  incon- 
trovertible proof  that  there  is  extra  energy  to  expend; 
therefore  it  cannot  be  a  proof  of  decline  or  decay.  Labor 
disputes  and  labor  organizations  are  the  best  possible 
proof  that  the  "laboring  classes,"  technically  so-called, 
are  well  off  and  gaining;  but  the  advancing  comfort  of 
the  mass  of  mankind,  during  any  period,  is  a  proof  that 
they  have  won  new  physical  and  social  power.  No 
explanation  of  the  increase  in  comfort  can  be  correct, 
therefore,  unless  it  is  given  in  terms  of  this  new  power. 

I  therefore  make  bold  to  doubt  whether  there  is  any 
truth  in  the  notion  that  new  institutions  have  been 
produced  by  new  ideas,  and  whether  any  new  philoso- 
phies have  ever  become  original  molding  forces  in  social 
development.     To  me  it  seems,  on  the  contrary,  tliat  the 


140  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

new  social  power  makes  the  new  ideas,  and  that  the  com- 
mand of  new  power  of  sustaining  life  on  earth  gives 
birth  to  new  philosophies. 

Acts,  ordinances,  and  resolutions  fall  dead  unless 
there  is  a  social  field  fit  for  them;  history  is  full  of  the 
skeletons  of  such  still-born  enactments.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  institutions.  Institutions  have  had  immeas- 
urable importance  in  human  history,  but  nowadays 
institution  has  become  a  word  to  juggle  with.  There 
have  been  all  sorts  of  institutions,  and  those  of  them 
which  have  been  invented  by  human  wit  have  only  served 
to  bring  human  wit  into  scorn.  Institutions  which  have 
been  strong  and  effective  have  grown,  we  scarcely 
know  how,  because  the  soil  and  the  seed  were  present. 
If  that  is  so,  then  behind  institutions  we  must  seek  the 
causes  and  conditions  which  brought  them  into  being 
and  nourished  their  growth.  That  brings  us  to  social 
forces  again. 

In  civil  affairs  it  is  most  commonly  believed  that  we 
can  make  constitutions  as  we  choose,  and  that  the  wisdom 
of  constitution-makers  shapes  the  destinies  of  peoples. 
Is  this  so.'*  Have  we  a  republic  because  the  men  of  1787 
voted  so?  Are  our  institutions  democratic  because 
those  men  disliked  aristocracy  and  loved  democracy  .^^ 
I  do  not  so  read  history,  although  the  current  expres- 
sions in  our  literature  all  imply  that  such  is  the  case. 
It  was  the  industrial  and  social  power  of  the  masses  of 
the  population  in  a  new  country  with  unlimited  land 
which  made  us  democratic.  It  is  the  reflex  influence 
of  the  new  countries  on  the  old  centers  of  civilization 
which  is  breaking  down  aristocracy,  and  making  them 
democratic  too;  but  it  is  because  the  opening  of  the  new 
continents  has  made  a  demand  for  men  —  it  has  brought 
about  a  call  for  more  population.     The  consequence  is 


WHAT  EMANCIPATES  141 

that  those  who  are  here  can  marry,  can  support  a  family, 
and  can  at  the  same  time  save  capital,  or,  if  they  like 
it  better,  they  can  work  fewer  hours  a  day.  Hence 
we  find  our  age  full  of  discussion  on  these  matters;  but 
does  any  one  suppose  that  men  could  discuss  emigra- 
tion, family  comfort,  politics,  wages,  rates,  and  eight- 
hour  laws,  unless  there  were  conditions  which  brought 
these  things  within  the  range  of  possibility?  The  great 
question  then  is,  what  are  those  conditions?  But  in 
the  discussion  it  hardly  seems  to  be  noted  that  they  exist 
and  that  in  them  lies  the  key  of  the  whole  matter.  If 
this  view  is  correct,  a  social  science  which  investigates 
those  conditions  is  the  only  social  science  which  has 
value;  history  will  have  its  use  as  serving  that  science, 
and  if  it  does  not  do  so  it  only  degenerates  into  a  new 
form  of  scholasticism. 

The  acquisition  and  use  of  unlimited  supplies  of  new 
land  has  made  living  easy ;  it  has  taken  all  terror  from  the 
increase  of  population  —  in  fact,  has  made  it  a  help  and 
a  blessing;  it  has  made  it  easy  to  accumulate  capital 
and  has  produced  leisure  for  invention.  This  increase 
of  power  has,  consequently,  produced  expansion  of  being 
in  every  direction  and  in  every  form. 

The  extension  of  acreage  lowers  the  value  of  land  and 
of  land  products  against  all  other  things,  including 
services;  it  increases  food  products  and  raw  materials, 
that  is,  subsistence  and  materials  for  laborers.  Inven- 
tions increase  the  power  of  machines  and  multiply 
through  them  all  the  forms  of  clothing,  furniture,  fuel, 
lights,  literature,  etc.  All  this  makes  capital  abundant 
and  interest  low;  it  also  makes  real  wages  high,  and, 
by  reducing  prices,  increases  the  purchasing  power  of 
money  wages.  The  conjuncture  is,  therefore,  all  in 
favor  of  wage-earners  and  non-capitalists.     They  have 


142  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

the  social  power;  they,  therefore,  take  the  political 
power.  We  may  invent  such  institutions  as  we  choose, 
but  they  will  all  speedily  change  into  forms  consistent 
with  this  distribution  of  social  forces,  or  die.  All  the 
tendencies  of  the  time  are  sure  to  stream  toward  the 
focus  of  the  great  predominating  force,  in  the  system, 
for  the  time;  and  the  masters  of  this  force  are  sure  to 
be  flattered  and  courted. 


POWER  AND  PROGRESS 


POWER  AND  PROGRESS 

In  its  simplest  and  most  concrete  form,  social  power 
consists  in  the  power  of  an  individual  man  to  produce 
by  his  labor,  from  the  ground,  more  than  the  subsistence 
of  one  man.  Its  grades  and  degrees  follow  the  increasing 
ratio  of  the  product  to  the  labor.  If  one  man  can 
produce  subsistence  for  a  number,  the  population  rapidly 
increases,  a  society  grows  up,  and  increases  soon  to 
great  numbers.  The  men  are  "in  demand,"  as  we  have 
expressed  it  before;  the  surplus  product  of  those  already 
here  constitutes  a  supply  of  subsistence  all  ready  for 
others,  and  thus  measures  the  demand  for  them  as  an 
economic  quantity.  The  greater  the  productive  power 
of  the  members  of  society  the  more  luxurious  will  be  the 
life  in  it;  existence  will  be  broad  and  ample  in  its  comfort, 
and  all  the  social  capital  will  be  rapidly  multiplied. 
The  members  of  the  society  all  participate  in  the  advan- 
tage of  the  social  capital  where  liberty  exists,  and  im- 
perfectly even  where  it  does  not  exist,  for  not  even  slaves 
could  be  prevented  from  sharing  in  those  facilities 
and  advantages  which  are  public  and  general  in  a  highly 
civilized  state.  Thus  the  power  of  the  individual  to 
produce  much  turns  into  a  social  power. 

It  is  a  painful  disillusion  to  find  that  increasing  social 
power  does  not  tend  toward  a  final  social  condition  in 
which  rest  and  contentment  would  be  found  after  a 
task  finished  and  executed,  but  that  the  problem  has  only 
changed  its  form.  If  the  society,  after  taking  up  new 
elements,  tends  toward  a  new  equilibrium  in  which  those 
new  elements  are  to  be  absorbed  and  assimilated,  the 

[145] 


146  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

period  of  change  and  transition  is  found  to  be  the  period 
of  prosperity,  expansion,  and  happiness.  Rest  and  peace 
would  mean,  not  quiet  and  unruffled  enjoyment,  but 
stagnation,  routine,  and  decay.  A  new  measure  of 
energy  and  strength  is  won,  but  it  drives  us  on  again; 
we  make  new  achievements,  and  get  once  more  all  the 
exhilaration  of  advancing  motion;  but  we  throw  aside 
and  lose  much  of  our  old  winnings.  It  is  never  in  the 
quiet  enjoyment  of  rest,  or  in  exhausting  the  enjoyment 
which  comes  from  consuming  the  achievements  of  the 
past  that  either  power  or  happiness  is  won  —  it  is  in  the 
work  of  achievement,  in  the  sense  of  gain  and  progress, 
in  the  movement  and  transition  from  one  plane  to 
another.  How  then  is  it  possible  to  imagine  that  the 
human  race  will  ever  get  its  work  done.^  If  it  ever  stops 
to  rest  it  will  retrograde.  It  will  then  have  its  work  to 
begin  all  over  again.  Poverty,  if  ever  conquered  and 
banished,  will  come  again  through  the  vices  engendered 
in  a  world  without  poverty,  and  so  the  conflict  with  it 
must  begin  again. 

The  Egyptians  owed  their  power  and  civilization  to 
the  fact  that  the  Nile  mud  so  enriched  the  valley  every 
season  that  one  man's  labor  could  produce  subsistence 
for  many.  When  the  population  increased,  the  power 
of  social  maintenance  was  not  diminished  but  increased. 
When  there  was  a  great  population  there,  using  the  land 
with  very  painstaking  labor  according  to  the  stage  of 
the  arts,  an  immense  surplus  was  produced  which  raised 
war,  statecraft,  fine  arts,  science,  and  religion  up  to 
a  very  high  plane.  Then  they  tried  to  satisfy  the  de- 
mand for  men  by  slaves,  that  is,  persons  who  contributed 
to  the  social  power  to  their  utmost  yet  shared  in  it  only 
under  the  narrowest  limitations.  The  system,  after 
reaching  the  full  flower  of  prosperity  of  which  it  was 


POWER  AND  PROGRESS  147 

capable,  became  rigid,  chiefly,  as  it  appears,  because  the 
sanction  of  religion  was  given  to  the  traditional  and 
stereotyped  forms.  Also  the  power  of  social  support 
which  lay  in  the  fertility  of  the  soil  had  been  exploited 
to  its  utmost.  The  arts  by  which  more  product  might 
have  been  won  advanced  only  very  slowly  —  scarcely 
at  all.  There  was  hardly  any  emigration  to  new  land. 
Hence  a  culmination  was  reached,  after  which  there 
must  be  decline  and  decay.  The  achievements  of  the 
Egyptians  were  made  in  the  period  when  they  were 
growing  up  to  the  measure  of  the  chances  which  they 
possessed. 

In  their  case  we  can  see  a  nation  pass  through  the 
stages  from  the  first  to  the  last.  Other  nations,  which 
are  in  full  contact  with  the  rest  of  the  human  race, 
undergo  constantly  renewed  impulses  to  advance  and 
they  undergo  periods  of  reaction.  The  phenomena  are 
broken  and  confused  and  it  is  not  easy  to  interpret 
them. 

In  the  case  of  the  individual  also  it  is  emphatically 
true  that  it  is  not  the  man  who  is  rich  who  is  happy; 
it  is  the  man  who  is  growing  richer  than  he  has  been. 
Hence  this  great  happiness  is  possible  to  all,  for  it  is 
just  as  intense  for  a  man  who  has  been  used  to  five 
hundred  a  year  and  is  now  winning  eight  hundred  as 
it  is  to  the  man  who  has  been  having  twenty  thousand 
and  is  now  winning  twenty-five  thousand. 

Progress,  therefore,  means  winning  more  social  power; 
it  goes  along  with  increase  of  power  and  is  the  proof  and 
the  realization  of  such  increase.  The  arts  of  life  all 
contribute  to  the  increase.  Although  it  has  been  said 
that  social  power  means  power  of  an  individual  to  pro- 
duce, from  the  land,  a  surplus  of  subsistence  beyond 
his  own  needs,  yet  it  will  not  be  understood  that  this 


148  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

power  is  increased  by  agricultural  improvements  only; 
it  is  increased  by  all  improvements  in  any  department  of 
industrial  effort;  it  is  especially  increased  by  the  exten- 
sion of  the  cultivated  area  of  the  globe,  that  is,  by  set- 
tling new  countries.  This  last  mode  of  increasing  social 
power  is  also  the  easiest. 

From  the  increase  of  industrial  power  there  follows 
advance  in  science,  fine  arts,  literature,  and  education, 
which  react  again  on  the  social  power  to  stimulate  it 
and  accelerate  the  rate  of  its  activity,  thus  increasing  its 
eflficiency. 

The  point  which  here  seems  most  important  is  to  keep 
the  sequence  and  relation  of  things  distinct  and  clear. 
The  notion  that  progress  proceeds  in  the  first  instance 
from  intellectual  or  moral  stimuli,  or  that  progress  is 
really  something  in  the  world  of  thought,  and  not  of 
sense,  has  led  to  the  most  disappointing  and  abortive 
efforts  to  teach  and  *' elevate"  inferior  races  or  neglected 
classes.  The  ancestors  of  the  present  civilized  races 
did  not  win  their  civilization  by  any  such  path;  they 
built  it  up  through  centuries  of  toil  from  a  foundation 
of  surplus  material  means,  which  they  won  through 
improvements  in  the  industrial  arts  and  in  the  economic 
organization. 

In  this  connection  also  we  are  brought  to  another 
question  which  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
important  to  be  clearly  answered  for  successful  dis- 
cussion of  social  problems.  It  is  assumed  to  be  the 
task  of  political  economy  or  social  science  to  account  for 
"the  degradation  of  mankind,"  or  to  find  out  the 
reasons  for  degradation  of  mankind  as  a  preliminary 
step  toward  the  cure  of  that  degradation  —  which  latter 
is  taken  to  be  the  task  of  those  sciences.  But  we  are 
met  at  once  by  the  question:    Is  the  degradation  of 


POWER  AND  PROGRESS  149 

mankind  a  problem?  There  have  been  many  schools 
of  philosophers  who  have  believed  that  men  once  were 
pure  and  elevated  and  that  they  have  fallen  into  degra- 
dation; the  old  theologians,  the  classical  peoples,  the 
believers  in  a  state  of  nature  in  which  all  was  pure, 
simple,  and  good,  all  held  this  notion  in  one  form  or  an- 
other. For  any  of  these  schools  it  was  undoubtedly  a 
reasonable  question  as  to  how  the  primitive  bliss  had 
been  lost. 

At  present,  however,  we  no  longer  start  from  any  as- 
sumptions of  that  kind  at  all.  We  know  as  a  matter 
of  fact  that  mankind  has  never  lived  in  any  primitive 
golden  age  or  stage  of  nature;  its  earliest  state  was  a 
state  of  degradation,  which  was  almost  universal.  If 
we  could  trace  the  history  of  the  race  further  back  we 
must  believe  that  we  should  find  the  degradation  uni- 
versal. The  question  is  not,  therefore,  how  the  race 
ever  fell  into  degradation,  measuring  degradation  from 
some  ideal  state  of  elevation;  but,  how  the  race  ever 
escaped  from  degradation  as  far  as  it  has  done  so,  reckon- 
ing its  present  condition  from  what  we  know  about  the 
primitive  condition  of  the  race.  The  mystery  is  not  that 
there  is  still  a  measure  of  degradation,  but  that  there  are 
any  men  who  have  emerged  from  the  primitive  degra- 
dation. 

It  is  evident  that  the  difference  in  these  two  points 
of  view  is  as  wide  as  any  which  could  be  imagined  in  this 
domain.  The  latter  is  the  only  one  which  has  any  war- 
rant in  the  facts  of  our  knowledge.  If  it  is  true,  then 
all  social  discussion  which  proceeds  from  the  other  point 
of  view  is  mere  fiction  —  and  if  we  do  not  know  which 
is  true,  then  we  cannot  yet  make  any  fruitful  discussion 
at  all. 

For  our  present  purpose,  then,  we  observe  that  the 


150  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

possession  of  social  power  in  any  society  or  in  any  gen- 
eration, produces  social  movement,  with  expansion, 
reiterated  new  achievement,  social  hope  and  enthusiasm, 
with  all  that  we  call  progress;  and  that  this  movement 
is  so  directed  that  degradation  is  behind  it.  The  prob- 
lem is  not  to  account  for  degradation,  because  if  we 
relax  our  efforts  we  shall  fall  back  into  it.  The  problem 
is  how  to  maintain  the  effort  and  develop  the  power 
so  as  to  keep  up  the  movement  away  from  it.  It  is 
true  that  the  movement  is  by  no  means  in  a  direct  line 
away  from  primitive  barbarism,  and  that  it  is  subject 
to  retrograde  movements  toward  degradation;  also  that, 
even  on  its  line  of  advance,  it  meets  with  and  seems 
even  to  produce  new  forms  of  social  degradation.  But 
the  fact  that  the  primitive  barbarism  is  to  any  degree 
left  behind,  or  that  it  is  even  transformed,  is  the  com- 
manding fact  which  sets  our  point  of  view  for  us,  and 
determines  the  interpretation  which  we  must  give  to  all 
the  phenomena  and  to  all  the  smaller  and  narrower 
movements.  K  we  do  not  master  the  point  which  is 
here  presented  we  can  have  no  social  science  at  all. 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  INCREASED  SOCIAL 

POWER 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  INCREASED  SOCIAL 
POWER 

Let  us  ask  what  are  some  of  the  consequences  of 
advancing  social  power.  We  ought,  by  taking  up  that 
question,  to  find  out  whether  some  of  the  social  phe- 
nomena which  interest  us  most  are  due  to  exuberant 
social  power  or  are  products  of  philosophy. 

Social  force  is  won  by  advance  in  the  mechanic  arts,  or 
in  science,  or  by  the  acquisition  of  more  land.  The 
history  of  inventions  and  discoveries,  however,  teaches 
us  that  they  are  never  won  arbitrarily,  but  always  ap- 
pear upon  the  lines  of  effort  which  lie  directly  in  the 
path  of  human  advance  for  the  time  being.  Take  the 
case  of  the  two  most  important  inventions  which  helped 
to  break  up  the  mediaeval  order  —  those  of  gunpowder 
and  printing.  The  invention  of  gunpowder  came  at  the 
end  of  a  series  of  efforts  and  experiments  which  had 
been  continued  for  centuries  for  the  purpose  of  attaining 
some  more  effective  means  of  carrying  on  war,  the  chief 
business  of  the  time.  The  invention  of  printing  was 
produced  oiit  of  the  effort  to  find  cheaper  means  of 
multiplying  religious  books,  so  as  to  meet  the  religious 
sentiment  which  was  the  most  powerful  sentiment  of 
the  time. 

The  discovery  of  America  opened  immense  tracts  of 
new  land  to  settlement  and  use  by  the  crowded  popula- 
tions of  Western  Europe.  This  latter  gain  was  for  a  long 
time  not  available;  it  was  necessary  that  the  mechanic 
arts  should  go  through  a  long  development  and  come  up 

[153] 


154  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

to  the  point  where  they  could  assist  in  reaching  the  new 
land,  before  the  latter  could  really  affect  the  situation. 
The  last  hundred  years  have  seen  a  prodigious  advance 
in  the  mechanic  arts  which  has  made  the  new  land  of 
America  and  other  continents  easily  available.  The  use 
of  the  new  land  has  reacted  upon  the  old  population; 
it  has  made  food  cheap  and  abundant  and  this  has,  as  it 
were,  won  wider  space  and  given  leisure.  It  has  in- 
creased capital  and  thus  made  it  possible  to  push  on 
inventions;  for  it  must  be  noticed  that  no  man  and  no 
society  can  push  on  discovery  and  invention  when  the 
utmost  powers  are  all  the  time  strained  to  win  means 
of  subsistence  from  day  to  day;  it  is  only  when  there  is 
some  surplus  power  already  at  one's  disposal  that  time 
can  be  spent  on  science  and  invention,  which  do  nothing 
for  the  time  being  for  the  support  of  the  worker.  The 
great  advance  in  invention  during  the  last  hundred 
years  is  itself  one  consequence  of  increased  social  power. 

The  increase  of  social  power  and  of  capital  has  far 
outstripped  the  growth  of  population,  and  the  inevitable 
result,  as  has  already  been  said,  has  been  to  cause  a 
demand  for  more  men.  An  increase  in  numbers  only 
increases  the  power,  for  the  existing  resources  are  by  no 
means  exploited  to  the  utmost;  more  men  mean  more 
help,  more  accomplishment,  greater  well-being  for  all. 

The  United  States  is  the  country  in  which  the  two 
great  elements  of  advancing  industrial  power,  the  new 
land  and  the  improvements  in  the  mechanic  arts,  have 
combined.  It  is  therefore  small  marvel  **that  America 
marks  the  highest  level  not  only  of  material  well-being, 
but  of  intelligence  and  happiness,  which  the  race  has  yet 
attained."  Whether  the  causes  of  that  fact  have  been 
correctly  observed  or  the  inferences  from  it  have  been 
correctly  drawn,  is  another  question. 


INCREASED  SOCIAL  POWER  155 

The  first  consequence  worth  noticing,  then,  as  fol- 
lowing from  the  possession  of  exuberant  social  power, 
is  that  the  elasticity  and  vitality  of  the  society  are  high 
and  that  it  can  afford  to  take  political  and  social  risks. 
The  field  for  social  experimentation  is  very  wide;  as 
the  society  is  going  ahead  all  the  time,  its  circumstances 
and  surroundings  are  changing  all  the  time.  The 
"wisdom  of  the  past"  easily  comes  to  be  a  by- word; 
prescription  and  precedent  are  odious,  for  they  appear, 
not  as  protection  and  support,  but  as  trammels.  The 
sacrifice  of  past  achievements  goes  on  constantly  and 
deserves  no  regret  because  the  gain  of  the  new  creations 
is  so  very  great.  Is  there  any  merit  of  men  or  insti- 
tutions in  this  state  of  facts?  There  certainly  is  not. 
The  men  are  easily  wise  when  ignorance  bears  scarcely 
any  penalties;  the  institutions  easily  win  the  credit 
of  social  effectiveness  when  their  evil  results,  if  they 
have  any  that  are  evil  and  hindering,  are  lost  and  over- 
whelmed in  the  great  onward  tide  of  power.  If  the  real 
social  tide  is  one  of  swelling  and  expanding  creation  or 
renovation,  what  can  stop  it?  What  can  do  it  any 
great  harm?  How  do  we  know,  then,  whether  a  given 
institution  is  assisting  the  advance  or  is  hindering  it? 
We  certainly  can  get  no  light  on  that  p)oint  by  simply 
noting  that  the  institution  in  question  constitutes  a 
part  of  the  social  aggregate  which  is  moving  on. 

Another  consequence  of  exuberant  social  power  is 
that  the  sort  of  liberty  which  consists  in  pursuing  one's 
own  will  without  restraint  becomes  in  a  large  measure 
possible,  and  that,  of  course,  men  are  educated  to  be- 
lieve in  that  kind  of  liberty.  That  kind  of  liberty  is 
only  possible  in  a  society  which  possesses  a  large  surplus 
of  social  power,  very  widely  distributed  —  in  that  case 
each  man  is  free  with  respect  to  nature,  and  then  all 


156  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

are  easily  free  with  respect  to  each  other.  AH  men  are 
easily  equal  when  all  are  substantially  well  off,  because 
the  social  pressure  is  slight;  it  is  intense  social  pressure 
which  draws  the  society  out  into  ranks  and  classes. 
The  relaxation  of  social  pressure  lets  the  ranks  and 
classes  come  together  again. 

The  three  classes  which  form  the  skeleton  of  any 
aristocratic  system,  that  is,  of  a  system  in  which  classes 
are  widely  separated  from  each  other,  are  landlords, 
tenants,  and  laborers.  The  landlords  are  the  holders  of 
the  land.  The  tenants  are  the  holders  of  capital,  be- 
cause the  land  must  be  intensively  cultivated,  which 
cannot  be  done  without  capital.  The  laborers  are  those 
who  have  neither  capital  nor  land  and  who  seek  a  live- 
lihood by  putting  personal  services  into  the  industrial 
organization. 

If  the  population  is  dense  and  the  land  is  all  occupied, 
the  possession  of  it  is  the  possession  of  a  natural  monop- 
oly of  a  thing  which  is  in  high  demand.  The  land- 
owners, therefore,  possess  an  immense  social  advantage. 
The  tenants  and  the  whole  middle  capitalist  class,  which 
stands  on  the  same  social  plane  with  them,  possess  the 
second  social  advantage.  The  laborers  are  those  who 
possess  neither.  The  three,  therefore,  are  widely  sepa- 
rated one  from  the  other  as  respects  the  conditions  of 
material  well-being  and  earthly  happinesss. 

Suppose  then  that  new  social  power  is  won  —  let  it  be 
assumed  that  some  new  mechanical  force  is  obtained  or 
that  new  areas  of  land  are  made  accessible  —  what  is  the 
effect  on  the  position  of  classes  and  on  the  relative  differ- 
ence in  the  status  of  classes?  Plainly  the  social  pressure 
is  relaxed.  The  landlord  finds  that  his  monopoly  is  no 
longer  worth  as  much  as  before,  because  the  supply  of 
it  has  been  greatly  increased.     His  rents  decline  and  his 


INCREASED  SOCIAL  POWER  157 

tenants  refuse  any  longer  to  be  tenants  because  it  is  so 
easy  to  obtain  land  and  become  their  own  landlords.  In 
their  turn  they  find  it  harder  to  hire  laborers ;  for  when 
land  is  abundant  intensive  cultivation  is  no  longer  neces- 
sary and  no  longer  pays.  Capital  is  no  longer  indis- 
pensable for  the  cultivation,  or  a  small  amount  of  it  will 
suflSce.  The  laborer,  therefore,  is  no  longer  differenti- 
ated from  the  other  classes.  He  can  easily  obtain  land 
and  also  the  minimum  of  capital  necessary  to  cultivate 
it.  Thus  the  landlord  comes  down  to  be  his  own  tenant 
and  his  own  laborer.  The  tenant  owns  his  own  land  and 
is  his  own  laborer.  The  laborer  becomes  his  own  land- 
lord and  his  own  employer.  The  three  classes  have 
melted  into  one.  It  is  no  longer  worth  while  to  own  a 
large  estate  in  land,  for  the  owner  could  not  economically 
exploit  it.  A  substantial  equality  of  all  on  the  middle 
rank  is  the  inevitable  social  consequence,  with  democracy 
and  all  the  other  cognate  political  results. 

At  the  same  time,  since  capital  is  no  longer  so  nec- 
essary to  cultivate  the  ground,  since  the  accumulation 
of  capital  goes  on  with  constantly  greater  rapidity 
on  account  of  the  large  proportion  of  the  product  to  the 
labor  under  the  new  state  of  social  power,  and  since 
the  capital  cannot  be  made  productive  without  new 
supplies  of  labor,  the  men  are  on  all  accounts  in  demand 
and  are  worth  more  and  more  when  measured  in  capital. 
The  class,  therefore,  which  was,  under  the  first  supposi- 
tion, the  worst  off,  obtains  under  the  second  supposition 
the  command  of  the  situation. 

Is  not  this  the  correct  interpretation  of  what  we  see 
going  on  about  us.?^  If  it  is,  then  the  dogmatic  or  philo- 
sophical theorems,  instead  of  being  the  cause  of  our  social 
arrangements,  are  only  the  metaphysical  dress  which  we 
have  amused  ourselves  by  imagining  upon  them.     We 


158  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

are  not  free  and  equal  because  Jefferson  put  it  into  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  that  we  were  born  so; 
but  Jefferson  could  put  it  into  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence that  all  men  are  born  free  and  equal  because 
the  economic  relations  existing  in  America  made  the 
members  of  society  to  all  intents  and  purposes  free  and 
equal.  It  makes  some  difference  to  him  who  desires 
to  attain  to  a  correct  social  philosophy  which  of  these 
ways  of  looking  at  the  matter  is  true  to  the  facts. 


WHAT  IS  THE  "PROLETARIAT"? 


WHAT  IS  THE  "PROLETARIAT"? 

The  latest  social  agitation  is  marked  by  a  fondness 
for  big  words  and  high-sounding  phrases.  The  words 
which  are  most  in  favor  are  not  those  which  are  espe- 
cially sonorous  but  those  which  have  a  philosophical 
clink  and  are  a  little  pedantic;  and  as  for  the  phrases, 
it  is  interesting  and  remarkable  to  notice  in  what  mouths 
one  may  find  a  forlorn  tatter  of  Hegelian  philosophy. 
The  leaders  of  the  movement  have  created  a  dialect  all 
their  own,  which  has  a  strange  and  foreign  sound  to  the 
uninitiated,  and  which  suggests  far-reaching  observa- 
tions on  social  philosophy  to  those  who  can  find  the 
occult  significance  of  the  phraseology.  It  is  certain 
that  it  becomes  a  fashion  and  an  affectation  among  the 
adherents  of  the  movement  to  use  the  terms  and  bandy 
the  catch  phrases  of  the  sect.  They  are  largely  the 
victims  of  the  "phrase." 

The  dialect  of  a  movement,  however,  is  never  a  matter 
to  be  treated  with  indifference;  in  its  origin,  and  in  the 
mouths  of  the  leaders,  it  had  a  motive  and  a  logical 
sense.  No  American  artisan  can  understand  what  he 
means  when  he  talks  about  the  "bourgeoisie"  or  the 
"proletariat."  The  former  word  certainly  is  entirely 
exotic;  if  it  be  explained  to  mean  the  middle  class,  it 
has  no  application  to  American  society,  and  it  has  lost 
all  the  side  signification  which  gives  it  its  importance  in 
Europe,  when  it  is  so  explained.  Such  words  are  a 
part  of  the  foreign  dress  of  a  set  of  ideas  which  are  not 
yet  naturalized.     The  word,  however,  cannot  be  given 

[  161  ] 


162  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

up  by  the  leaders  because  the  essence  of  their  cause  is 
in  it  with  its  acquired  and  historical  side  significations. 

Proletariat  should  be  a  term  of  reproach.  A  prole- 
tarian at  Rome  was  a  man,  who,  having  no  property, 
could  serve  the  state  only  with  his  offspring  (proles)  ^ 
whom  he  gave  to  military  service.  No  class  in  any 
modern  state  could  correspond  to  that  class  at  Rome. 
The  only  persons  in  a  modern  state  to  whom  the  name 
might  perhaps  have  been  transferred  with  some  con- 
venience are  tramps  and  vagabonds,  men  without 
homes,  family,  calling,  property,  or  reputation.  The 
name  has,  however,  been  adopted  and  accepted  without 
any  dislike.  It  is  a  grand,  foreign,  classical,  pedantic, 
and  mysterious  term,  into  which  it  is  easy  to  distil  all 
the  side  significations  of  class  hatred  and  social  rancor 
which  any  one  may  wish  to  transmit.  After  all  it 
means  nothing  but  what  we  used  to  call  the  masses,  and 
it  has  just  the  same  lack  of  definition  and  the  same 
vagueness  of  limit  in  its  social  application.  The  new 
term,  however,  already  begins  to  give  precision  to  the 
social  body  which  it  specializes  as  a  fighting  faction. 
Such  is  the  purpose  and  the  utility  of  it. 

If  we  try  to  define  the  limits  of  the  class  so  named 
according  to  the  present  usage  of  language,  it  appears, 
in  the  first  place,  that  there  is  no  exclusion  at  the  bottom. 
The  term  is  most  significant  when  used  politically,  and 
there  are  none  who  have  political  standing  who  are  not 
available  allies.  Hence  the  proletariat  includes  all  the 
dependent  and  delinquent  classes  so  far  as  they  have 
not  lost  political  privileges. 

It  is  the  upper  limit  which  is  vague  and  undefined. 
Not  all  wage-receivers  are  in  the  proletariat,  for  those 
who  get  more  than  some  vague  limit  or  whose  wages 
are  paid  at  longer  intervals  (highly  skilled  laborers  and 


WHAT  IS  THE  "PROLETARLVT"?  163 

salaried  men)  are  not  included.  Not  all  the  employed 
are  in  it,  for  high  officials  would  not  be  recognized  as 
belonging  to  it;  not  all  laborers  are  in  it,  for  we  are  all 
laborers  except  the  little  group  of  people  of  leisure. 
The  President  of  the  United  States  is  an  employee  and 
a  laborer.  Not  all  capitalists  are  excluded  from  it,  for 
many  of  its  members  have  important  savings.  Here, 
however,  we  undoubtedly  come  nearest  to  a  definition; 
for  those  who  have  savings  would  almost  all  break  loose 
from  the  proletariat  as  soon  as  they  recognized  the 
sense  of  many  of  its  propositions.  This  fact  is  so  well 
known  that  those  among  the  artisan  and  manual  labor 
classes  who  have  savings  are  regarded  with  peculiar  dis- 
like in  the  circles  of  proletarian  agitation.  The  great 
millionaires  are  not  denounced  with  such  vigor  as  the 
*'mean,  sneaking  workingman  who  has  saved  a  few 
dollars  which  he  has  laid  away  in  the  savings  bank,  or 
who  has  built  a  little  house  and  rents  it  for  seven  or 
eight  dollars  a  month."  "I  have  seen  that  class  of  men," 
said  one  orator,  "march  out  by  the  bench-full  as  soon  as 
I  began  to  talk  about  interest  and  rent.  I  can  talk  to 
great  capitalists  and  employers,  but  I  can  do  nothing 
with  those  men."  Still,  on  the  other  hand,  not  all  who 
have  not  capital  would  be  included;  for  there  are  plenty 
of  people  who  have  good  incomes,  all  of  which  they 
spend,  whose  style  of  life  would  prevent  them  from  being 
recognized  as  members  of  the  proletariat.  Peasants  in 
Europe  and  farmers  here  do  not  belong  to  it;  it  is  a  city 
class  quite  as  much  as  the  bourgeoisie. 

At  the  end  of  the  last  century  a  great  revolution  took 
place  in  which  the  bourgeoisie  wrested  political  power 
from  the  nobles.  The  peasants  and  the  town  mob 
shared  in  the  revolution  and  the  latter  finally  got  con- 
trol of  it.     When  the  excesses  had  provoked  reaction 


164  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

and  order  was  restored,  the  bourgeoisie,  as  the  most 
intelligent  and  capable  section  of  the  population,  took 
control  and  secured,  to  some  extent,  their  own  ideal  of 
civil  liberty  and  economic  prosperity.  Their  writers 
have  generally  agreed,  therefore,  in  regarding  the  rev- 
olution as  a  great  blessing,  attended  by  some  most 
lamentable,  but  perhaps  inevitable  excesses.  It  may  yet 
be  necessary  to  pay  a  heavy  price  for  the  revision  of  this 
opinion,  for  it  is  now  claimed  that  revolution  is  a  proper 
and,  in  fact,  the  only  true  and  possible  mode  of  social 
reform;  that  the  bourgeoisie  have  arrogated  to  them- 
selves all  the  gains  of  the  last  great  revolution,  and 
that  another  is  needed  to  wrest  from  them,  in  turn, 
what  they  wrested  from  the  nobles.  The  proletariat 
is,  in  fact,  the  faction  which  is  formed  for  this  assault. 
It  finds  its  recruits  where  it  can  get  them  —  among  the 
discontented,  the  hot-headed,  the  ill-balanced,  the  am- 
bitious, those  who  have  nothing  to  lose,  the  flatterers 
of  rising  power,  and  other  such  persons  who  naturally 
gravitate  toward  a  revolutionary  party.  It  is  plain 
that  the  thing  to  be  struggled  for  is  political  power,  not 
reform;  in  all  great  political  struggles  this  is  the  real 
object,  to  gain  political  power  and  control  of  the  force 
of  the  state. 

The  government  of  the  bourgeoisie  has  been  faulty 
enough,  and  there  would  be  no  reason  to  look  with 
apprehension  upon  a  transfer  of  the  power  of  the  state, 
if  it  were  sought  with  the  object  of  more  thoroughly 
doing  justice  to  all.  The  bourgeois  government  has 
threatened,  and  threatens  now  more  than  ever,  to 
degenerate  into  a  plutocracy.  If  sober  and  intelligent 
citizens  could  see  some  new  power  rising  in  the  state, 
able  and  intelligently  determined  to  correct  and  restrain 
this   tendency,  they  could   only    welcome   its  coming. 


WHAT  IS  THE  "PROLETARIAT"?  165 

So  far,  however,  the  proletariat  has  uttered  nothing  but 
truculent  assertions  about  what  it  intends  to  do  for  itself 
against  every  other  interest  in  the  state.  It  seems  to 
have  noted  all  the  sins  and  shortcomings  of  the  bour- 
geoisie; but  when  we  look  to  see  what  promise  of  reform 
it  holds  out,  we  find  that  it  only  cites  the  misdoings  of 
the  bourgeoisie  as  excuses  and  precedents  for  what  it 
intends  to  do. 

All  the  forces  which  gave  the  bourgeoisie  the  victory 
over  the  nobles  are  working  in  favor  of  the  proletariat. 
The  real  question  of  moment  is:  What  will  they  do  with 
the  state  when  they  get  control  of  it?  That  they  will 
be  utterly  disappointed  in  the  hopes  which  their  leaders 
are  now  encouraging  as  to  what  they  can  do,  is  certain; 
but  before  they  find  it  out  society  may  go  through  a 
period  of  confusion  and  strife  in  which  all  the  achieve- 
ments of  civilization  will  be  put  in  jeopardy.  Two 
parties  are  already  taking  shape  for  that  contest.  Mr. 
George  recently  called  them,  with  the  felicity  which  is 
his  chief  power,  the  House  of  Have  and  the  House  of 
Want;  he  defined  them  as  those  who  are  satisfied  as 
things  are  and  those  who  want  to  reform.  Others  have 
understood  them  to  mean  that  the  "land  ought  to 
belong,  not  to  those  who  own  it,  but  to  those  who  want 
it."  If  it  should  appear  upon  due  study  that  the  latter 
is  the  more  correct  definition  according  to  the  facts,  it 
will  be  another  case  in  which  Mr.  George's  felicity  of 
expression  far  surpasses  his  power  of  analysis.  We  are 
indebted  to  him  at  least  for  an  excellent  terminology, 
which  does  away  with  the  old  clumsiness  of  "  those- who- 
have"  and  **  those- who-have-not." 


WHO  WIN  BY  PROGRESS? 


WHO  WIN  BY  PROGRESS? 

In  a  former  article  I  endeavored  to  show  that  the 
word  proletariat,  which  is  now  coming  into  use  as  a 
name  by  which  the  wages-class  is  designated  by  itself 
and  its  friends,  ought  properly  to  be  applied  only  to 
persons  who  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  who  have  no 
definite  industrial  reliance  for  support,  who  have  no 
capital  and  no  reasonable  chance  of  ever  getting  any, 
who  touch  elbows  all  the  time  with  crime  and  occasion- 
ally fall  into  its  power,  and  who  increase  the  popu- 
lation through  vice.  No  such  class  of  persons  as  this 
exists  in  modern  society,  all  assertions  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding. 

Not  even  in  the  slums  of  great  modern  cities  is  there 
any  class  of  persons  who  could  be  called  proletarians 
and  yet  be  distinguished  from  the  dangerous  and  crim- 
inal class;  for  any  honest  man  who  finds  himself  there 
and  is  discontented  can  make  his  way,  by  moderate 
effort,  to  other  places  where  the  conditions  are  easier. 

It  is  true  that  a  poor  man  who  is  fond  of  the  life  of  a 
great  city  cannot  secure  health,  virtue,  and  capital  for 
his  children  there  at  as  easy  a  rate  as  he  could  in  the 
country.  What  then?  Shall  his  fellow-citizens,  many 
of  whom  have  fled  to  the  country,  not  because  they  like 
it  but  because  they  can  do  better  for  their  children  in 
that  way,  be  called  upon  to  enable  him  to  enjoy  the 
delights  of  the  city  on  the  easy  terms  of  the  country? 
It  has  been  asked  whether  there  is  not  some  remedy 
for  the  harsh  contrasts  of  wealth  and  poverty  in  great 

1169] 


170  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

cities.  There  is;  it  consists  in  a  voluntary  disruption 
of  the  city  and  a  scattering  of  its  population  over  the 
country.  Now  let  us  see  who  will  go  first  —  it  is  safe 
to  predict  that  among  the  last  to  go  will  be  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  slums. 

In  general,  there  is  no  man  who  is  honest  and  in- 
dustrious who  cannot  put  himself  in  a  way  to  maintain 
himself  and  his  family,  misfortune  apart,  in  a  condition 
of  substantial  comfort.  We  have  any  amount  of  reckless 
assertion  to  the  contrary;  it  is  asserted  that  the  wages- 
class  is  in  misery,  and  suflFers  from  a  great  number  of 
grievances;  but  no  statement  of  this  kind  has  ever  been 
made  in  terms  which  could  be  subjected  to  examination. 

It  is  also  asserted  that  the  wages-class  have  not 
shared  in  the  advantages  of  progress.  Here  it  should 
be  noticed,  in  the  first  place,  that  so  soon  as  a  member 
of  the  non-capitalist  class  wins  capital,  he  is  reckoned 
with  the  capitalist  class.  What  we  should  really  need 
in  order  to  test  the  question  as  to  what  chances  the 
non-capitalists  have  had  for  a  century  past  would  be  a 
census  of  the  capitalists  and  non-capitalists  a  century 
ago,  a  similar  census  now,  and  a  census  of  those  who,  in 
the  meantime,  have  gone  over  from  the  latter  to  the 
former.  The  usual  method  of  argument  is  to  show  that 
comparative  poverty  still  exists,  and  this  mode  of 
argument  is  often  extended  still  further,  so  that  it 
amounts  to  arguing  that  our  civilization  has  accom- 
plished nothing  at  all  because  it  can  be  shown  that  it 
has  not  yet  got  everything  done. 

In  opposition  to  all  this  I  maintain  that  the  progress 
of  the  arts  and  sciences  in  the  last  hundred  years  has 
inured  most  of  all  to  the  benefit  of  the  non-capitalists 
and  that  the  social  agitation  which  we  are  now  witness- 
ing is  a  proof  of  the  strength,  not  of  the  weakness,  of 


WHO  WIN  BY  PROGRESS?  171 

that  class.  If  any  one  wants  to  see  how  weak  classes 
have  been  treated  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  let  him  note 
how  landlords  are  treated  now. 

It  is  a  common  opinion  that  the  effect  of  the  exten- 
sion of  capital,  especially  in  the  form  of  machinery,  is 
to  displace  human  labor.  That  opinion  is  superficial 
and  erroneous;  the  more  complex  the  tools  or  machines, 
the  more  dependent  the  owner  is  on  hired  help  to  work 
them  for  him.  The  railroads  do  not  employ  fewer  men 
than  the  canals  and  stage  coaches  which  they  displaced; 
the  sewing  machine  does  not  give  work  to  fewer  women 
than  the  old  hand  sewing;  a  new  loom  calls  for  more 
help  at  another  point  or  the  number  of  new  looms  is 
multiplied  until  they  need  as  much  labor  as  the  old  ones. 
All  these  changes  raise  the  social  organization  to  higher 
power.  We  need  more  men  and  can  support  more  men, 
and  the  machines  set  free  those  who  are  needed  to 
sustain  the  higher  organization  by  a  more  refined  divi- 
sion of  labor.  The  greater  the  power  of  the  machines, 
the  greater  is  the  abundance  of  means  of  subsistence 
which  the  machines  produce,  and  the  greater,  therefore, 
is  the  demand  for  productive  services. 

The  effect  of  our  progress  in  the  arts  and  sciences 
within  a  century  has,  therefore,  been: 

1.  That  the  civilized  part  of  the  earth,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  other  part,  is  able  to  support  a  greater  population 
than  ever  before;  the  improvements  in  transportation 
have  brought  within  the  reach  of  civilized  man  vast 
areas  of  the  earth's  surface  which  were  not  available  a 
century  ago.  This  fact  in  itself,  for  those  who  can 
appreciate  its  significance,  is  enough  to  show  what 
class  of  the  population  must  be  chiefly  benefited. 

2.  It  has  been  made  cheap  and  easy  for  those  who  had 
nothing  but  strong  hands  and  good  will  to  get  away 


172  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

from  the  crowded  centers  of  population  to  acquire 
almost  without  cost  land  which  would  richly  repay 
their  labor,  and  to  send  their  products  to  those  markets, 
however  distant,  which  would  return  them  the  largest 
amount  of  other  products  in  exchange.  Hence  the 
accumulation  of  capital  has  outstripped  the  growth  of 
population,  great  as  the  latter  has  been.  It  certainly 
would  be  a  strange  social  phenomenon  if  the  century 
which  has  seen  the  new  continents  of  America,  Australia, 
and  Africa  opened  to  the  use  of  civilized  man  had  also 
seen  the  mass  of  civilized  men  reduced  to  lower  comfort 
than  they  previously  enjoyed.  The  economists  and  so- 
cial philosophers  who  have  given  countenance  to  this 
notion  have  not  only  made  a  professional  blunder  but 
also  incurred  a  great  responsibility. 

3.  It  is  said,  however,  that  the  gains  have  all  been 
won  by  landlords  and  capitalists.  In  truth  the  vast 
increase  in  the  production  of  means  of  subsistence,  won 
at  constantly  diminishing  outlay  of  labor  and  capital, 
has  lowered  money  prices  and  made  money  wages  worth 
more,  and  has,  at  the  same  time,  lowered  the  rate  of 
interest  on  capital  and  increased  the  demand  for  labor. 
It  is  not  at  all  astonishing  that  the  results  have  com- 
bined and  accumulated  so  as  to  produce  a  crisis. 

4.  It  is  the  fact,  also,  that  the  improvements  have 
lowered  the  pressure  of  population  at  the  old  centers 
and  have,  therefore,  lowered  the  rent  of  land,  so  that 
landlords  are  in  the  way  of  being  ruined  and  the  old 
landed  aristocracies  seem  doomed  to  extinction. 

It  seems  to  be  believed  that  we  can  have  all  these 
changes,  and  that  the  non-capitalist  class  can  win  all 
the  benefit  from  them  without  any  correlative  incon- 
venience; but  that  is  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things. 
The  changes  which  have  come  about  have  made  life 


WHO  WIN  BY  PROGRESS?  ITS 

more  stringent  and  exacting  for  everybody.  The  re- 
wards of  prudence  and  intelligence  are  more  ample 
and  the  penalties  of  heedlessness  and  adherence  to 
routine  are  greater  than  ever  before;  every  one  is 
forced  to  "keep  up."  The  more  the  machines  do,  the 
more  the  rational  animal,  man,  needs  to  bring  brains 
to  bear  to  rise  above  the  machines.  In  a  sense,  our 
whole  society  is  machine-ridden;  it  is  our  fate;  it  is 
the  price  we  pay  for  living  in  an  age  of  steam,  with  all 
the  glories  of  which  we  boast.  The  man  who  has  won 
most  of  all  from  the  progress  is  the  man  who  possesses 
executive  power  and  organizing  ability.  We  get  to- 
gether vast  masses  of  capital  and  hundreds  of  laborers, 
and  the  happiness  or  misery  of  thousands  comes  to 
depend  on  the  man  whose  judgment  and  knowledge 
decide  what  shall  be  done,  and  how.  We  cannot  break 
out  of  this  intense  and  exacting  social  organization 
without  sacrificing  our  means  of  comfort  and  throwing 
thousands  into  distress;  hence  we  pay  the  man  who 
can  manage  the  organization  a  monopoly  price  for  his 
rare  and  indispensable  abilities. 

Next  to  these,  however,  who  are  not  capitalists  and 
who  are  so  few  that  they  can  hardly  be  spoken  of  as  a 
class,  the  wage-earners  have  won.  They  run  a  greater 
risk  than  formerly  of  interruptions  of  work  and  of  being 
compelled  to  sacrifice  routine  knowledge  which  they  have 
acquired.  These  are  weighty  risks,  and  they  are  weightier 
in  proportion  as  the  organization  is  more  intense,  because 
the  higher  the  organization  the  harder  it  is,  having  once 
fallen  out  of  it,  to  get  into  it  again.  What  the  landlords 
and  capitalists  will  do  under  the  strain  which  the  changes 
have  thrown  on  them  remains  to  be  seen. 

The  new  position  of  the  wage-earner,  economically 
speaking,  is  the  cause  of  his  gain  in  political  power. 


174  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

It  is  the  reason  why  flatterers  and  sycophants  cluster 
about  him;  it  is  the  reason  why  the  laws  are  warped  in 
his  favor,  to  give  him  privileges  and  to  force  others  to 
yield  to  him.  In  our  own  experience  within  a  year  it 
has  been  evident  that  the  wage-earners  could  win  their 
demands  when  they  limited  them  to  a  certain  measure, 
that  is  to  say,  it  has  appeared  that  they  were  the  strong 
party  in  the  market.  They  are  so,  and  until  the  pop- 
ulation increases  or  the  land  is  all  taken  up  they  will 
remain  so.  As  between  that  which  has  been  achieved 
and  the  struggle  to  achieve,  the  odds  are  now  largely 
in  favor  of  the  latter. 


FEDERAL  LEGISLATION  ON  RAILROADS 


FEDERAL  LEGISLATION  ON  RAILROADS 

Daniel  Webster  once  said:  "A  strong  conviction 
that  something  must  be  done  is  the  parent  of  many  bad 
measures."  He  made  the  observation  early  in  his  ca- 
reer; but  it  was  a  sign  of  his  statesmanlike  power  to 
detect  the  common  element  in  heterogeneous  incidents 
of  public  life  that  he  should  have  made  it;  scarcely  a 
year  passes  which  does  not  give  us  a  new  illustration  of 
its  truth.  The  next  instance  of  headlong  legislation 
with  which  this  country  is  threatened  is  an  act  regulating 
railroads. 

Two  fallacies  are  of  constant  repetition  in  propositions 
for  more  government  regulation.  The  first  and  widest 
is  to  argue  that  competition  is  not  perfect  in  its  action 
and  does  not  satisfactorily  solve  the  problem;  it  is 
inferred  that  we  must  have  some  form  of  government 
regulation.  Plainly  this  inference  is  a  non  sequitur,  un- 
less it  can  be  shown  that  government  regulation  will 
produce  perfect  and  satisfactory  results;  or  that  regu- 
lation, although  imperfect,  will  just  complement  and 
make  up  for  the  imperfections  of  competition.  The 
second  fallacy  is  illustrated  when,  after  trying  for  a  long 
time  to  solve  a  problem  of  the  social  order  without  suc- 
cess, we  declare,  in  despair,  that  the  state  will  have  to 
take  it  in  hand  and  legislate  about  it.  This  is  a  worse 
non  sequitur  than  the  other. 

Both  these  fallacies  are  involved  in  the  current  ar- 
guments for  the  proposed  legislation  about  railroads. 
Railroads  are  still  new  and  still  in  their  infancy.  It 
seems  reasonable  to  believe  that  they  are  capable  of 

[177  1 


178  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

great  development  beyond  what  any  one  can  now  fore- 
see; new  inventions  are  reasonably  sure  to  cause  trans- 
formations in  railroad  business  and  methods.  We  have 
only  just  reached  the  point  where  a  few  men  are  compe- 
tent to  manage  great  lines  of  railroad  on  their  technical 
side;  we  have  only  just  begun  to  educate  men  for  the 
railroad  business  as  a  profession.  Railroad  men  do  not 
seem  yet  to  have  any  code  of  right  behavior  or  right 
management  between  themselves  —  people  often  deride 
the  professional  code  of  lawyers  or  doctors,  but  the 
value  of  such  a  code  is  seen  if  we  take  a  case  like  the  one 
before  us,  where  a  new  profession  has  not  yet  developed 
a  code.  The  social  and  economic  questions  raised  by 
railroads  and  about  railroads  are  extremely  difficult  and 
complicated;  we  have  not,  so  far,  accomplished  much 
of  anything  toward  solving  them  by  experience  or  theory. 
The  discussion,  so  far  as  it  has  yet  gone,  has  shown  only 
that  we  have  the  task  yet  before  us  and  that,  so  far,  all 
has  been  a  struggle  of  various  interests  to  use  railroads 
for  their  own  advantage.  The  true  solution  of  the  only 
proper  legislative  problem,  viz.,  how  to  adjust  all  the  in- 
terests so  that  no  one  of  them  can  encroach  upon  the 
others,  has  scarcely  been  furthered  at  all.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  take  up  a  volume  of  the  evidence  taken  by 
one  of  the  Congressional  committees  on  this  subject,  or 
any  debate  about  it  which  has  arisen  in  Congress,  to  see 
how  true  it  is  that  conflicting  interests  are  struggling 
for  advantage  over  each  other. 

The  railroad  question  is  far  wider  than  the  scope  of 
any  proposed  legislation  with  regard  to  it;  it  is  so  wide 
that  in  any  period  of  five  or  ten  years  new  phases  of  it 
come  to  the  front  and  occupy  public  attention.  Just 
now  the  prominent  phase  is  the  effect  of  competition  on 
a  weak  market;  for  the  time  being,  the  means  of  trans- 


FEDERAL  RAILROAD  LEGISLATION  179 

portation  seem  to  have  been  multiplied  in  excess  of  the 
demand.  The  railroad  monopoly  is  in  the  position  of 
any  monopoly  which  has  overproduced  its  market. 
Pooling  would  be  the  mode  of  applying  combination  and 
restriction  of  production  to  this  business;  that  pooling 
would  suit  the  condition  of  things  just  at  this  moment, 
and  would  be  a  corrective  for  the  evils  which  just  now 
command  public  attention,  is  very  probable.  But  the 
country  is  undoubtedly  destined  to  enter  on  a  new  period 
of  expanding  a  hitherto  unknown  prosperity,  and  what 
would  be  the  eflfects  of  pooling  on  a  strong  and  rising 
market  under  great  demand  for  transportation?  If  a 
law  is  passed  it  becomes  a  rigid  and  unavoidable  con- 
straint. It  is  not,  however,  my  purpose  to  argue  that 
pooling  is  a  good  thing  or  a  bad  thing;  the  arguments 
upon  that  point  are  so  strong  upon  either  side  that  a  case 
is  made  out  for  neither.  Under  such  circumstances,  to 
legislate  is  to  decide,  and  to  commit  the  interests  at 
stake  to  a  decision  which  is  immature  and  is  founded  on 
nothing  but  the  notion  that  something  must  be  done. 
Competition  has  borne  not  only  upon  the  rates  but  also 
upon  the  quality  of  cars  and  stations,  upon  speed  and 
punctuality,  upon  parlor  car  and  other  conveniences. 
What  would  be  the  effect  of  strict  pooling  upon  these? 

The  second  point  which  seems  now  to  occupy  atten- 
tion is  the  effect  of  railroads  upon  natural  distances;  it 
is  assumed  that  it  must  be  wrong  that  railroads  should 
make  a  place  which  is  near  further  off  than  one  which 
is  remote.  It  is  a  matter  of  familiar  experience  that 
railroads  do  invert  relations  of  distance  and  make  places 
which  are  two  hundred  miles  off  economically  nearer 
than  places  one  hundred  miles  off;  and  in  doing  this 
they  also  invert  the  interests  of  a  great  many  people. 
It  is  a  rash  and  mischievous  undertaking  to  try  to  offset 


180  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

or  correct  this  by  arbitrary  legislation.  It  is  not  pos- 
sible to  draft  an  intelligible  and  workable  regulation  to 
do  it.  The  short-haul  clause  in  the  bill  now  before  the 
Senate  is  already  a  subject  of  disputed  interpretation, 
and  whenever  the  courts  come  to  act  upon  it  they  will 
interpret  it  as  its  language  seems  to  require,  not  as  any- 
body now  says  that  it  is  intended  to  mean.  The  in- 
terests of  the  extreme  West  constantly  demand  that  the 
full  power  of  railroads  to  annihilate  distance  and  time 
shall  be  exerted  in  their  favor;  during  the  last  summer. 
Senator  Edmunds  pointed  out  to  his  Vermont  constitu- 
ents their  grievance,  in  the  fact  that  railroads  pour  into 
the  Eastern  market,  in  competition  with  them,  all  the 
products  of  the  West  —  i.e.,  do  just  what  the  West 
demands.  Cheap  freights  westward  benefit  Eastern 
manufacturers  and  Western  consumers  while  they  injure 
Western  manufacturers;  cheap  freights  eastward  favor 
Western  farmers  and  cattle  raisers  and  Eastern  consum- 
ers while  they  injure  Eastern  farmers.  How  can  the 
legislator  meddle  in  this  great  complex  of  interests  with- 
out doing  harm  to  everybody,  especially  when  he  goes 
about  it  without  any  theoretical  or  practical  principles 
to  guide  him,  with  nothing  but  the  conviction  that 
many  things  in  the  existing  order  are  not  as  we  should 
like  them  to  be  and  that  something  must  be  done? 

The  railroad  question,  properly  speaking,  I  repeat, 
goes  far  beyond  the  points  which  are  now  attracting 
attention.  The  railroad  company  has  relations  to  its 
employees,  to  the  state  which  taxes  its  property,  to  the 
municipalities  whose  streets  its  line  crosses,  to  adjoin- 
ing real-estate  owners,  to  the  legislators  and  editors  who 
want  free  passes,  etc.,  etc.  In  all  these  relations  there 
are  two  parties,  for  even  a  railroad  company  has  rights. 
Competing  Unes  have  relations  to  each  other,  and  these 


FEDERAL  RAILROAD  LEGISLATION  181 

often  raise  questions  in  which  there  is  no  simple  "justice" 
—  the  competing  lines  may  not  be  subject  to  the  same 
legislative  regulations.  A  country  three  thousand  miles 
in  extent  is  not  much  troubled  by  the  extra  prejudice 
which  is  imported  into  the  question  of  long  and  short 
haul  when  it  seems  to  include  favor  to  foreigners  at  the 
expense  of  citizens;  but  if  there  is  anything  real  in  the 
latter  grievance  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  it  should  not 
also  exist  in  a  concealed  form  here.  Finally,  it  cannot 
be  forgotten  that  the  railroad  issue  includes  the  question 
as  to  how  those  who  have  contributed  the  capital  to 
build  the  road  are  to  obtain  their  remuneration.  If  the 
state  undertakes  to  regulate  all  the  rest,  it  will  see  itself 
forced  at  last  to  regulate  this  also.  Hitherto  the  stock- 
holders have  been  left  to  get  their  remuneration  out  of 
their  own  enterprise  if  they  could;  if  they  could  not, 
they  have  been  left  to  make  the  best  of  it.  If,  however, 
the  state  interferes  with  the  whole  management  of 
their  enterprise,  how  will  it  at  last  escape  the  justice  of 
the  demand  that  it  compensate  them  or  secure  them  a 
return  on  their  investment? 

In  the  present  state  of  the  case  it  behooves  us  to 
remember  that,  in  the  varying  phases  of  the  industrial 
world  of  our  time,  first  one  interest  gets  a  chance  and  then 
another;  it  is  not  in  human  wit  to  stand  over  this  sys- 
tem and  correct  or  adjust  it  so  as  to  offset  all  the  special 
combinations  of  industrial  advantage  and  disadvantage. 
It  is  no  question  whether  we  like  living  in  an  age  of 
steam  or  not;  the  steam-engine  was  invented  in  the 
course  of  time,  just  when  all  the  antecedents  which  were 
necessary  for  it  had  been  provided;  it  has  come  to  stay 
and  we  must  learn  to  live  with  it.  We  have  sung  a 
great  many  paeans  over  it,  but  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  we  have  found  out  yet  what  an  uncomfortable 


182  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

social  comrade  it  may  prove  to  be  when  it  is  full  grown. 
Many  of  its  workings  are  very  capricious  in  the  chances 
which  they  throw  in  the  way  of  one  man  or  which  they 
take  away  from  another.  Can  we  do  anything  wiser 
than  to  take  the  good  chances  and  the  ill  chances  over  a 
period  of  years  and  make  the  best  of  them? 

What  we  need  most  in  regard  to  all  social  problems, 
if  we  want  to  solve  them  either  by  voluntary  action  or 
by  legislation,  is  knowledge.  If  we  could  have  a  com- 
mission to  study  railroads,  if  its  powers  were  only  such 
as  are  required  to  enable  it  to  get  information  and  to 
investigate  cases,  and  if  its  personnel  were  such  as  to 
inspire  confidence  that  it  was  capable  of  conducting  the 
investigation  and  that  it  would  conduct  it  disinterestedly 
from  the  standpoint  of  justice  to  all  interests,  the  com- 
mission might  be  very  useful.  It  is  very  probable  that 
legislation  might  ultimately  prove  necessary  or  expe- 
dient, but  it  would  not  then  be  an  embodiment  of  any- 
body's whim  or  view  of  the  matter  but  would  be  guided 
by  experience  and  observation.  Blundering  experiments 
in  legislation  cannot  be  simply  abandoned  if  they  do  not 
work  well;  even  if  they  are  set  aside,  they  leave  their 
effects  behind;  and  they  create  vested  interests  which 
make  it  difficult  to  set  them  aside. 


LEGISLATION  BY  CLAMOR 


LEGISLATION  BY  CLAMOR 

It  is  already  evident  that  one  feature  of  the  "new 
time*'  into  which  we  are  hastening  will  be  the  subjec- 
tion of  legislatures  to  the  pressure  of  groups  of  persons 
who  are  capable  of  controlling  newspapers  or  combining 
votes.  Under  the  old  notions  of  legislation,  the  duty 
of  legislators  was  to  study  carefully  the  details  of  pro- 
posed legislation,  to  debate  and  discuss  measures,  and 
so,  by  deliberation,  to  arrive  at  decisions  as  to  what 
should  be  enacted.  The  notion  was  that  the  statesman 
should  know  what  he  intended  to  do  and  should  consider 
the  proper  means  of  reaching  the  desired  result.  This 
theory  of  legislation  never  has  been  very  thoroughly 
put  into  practice  anywhere,  but  now  the  idea  seems  to 
be  that  it  is  antiquated,  that  we  do  not  intend  to  seek 
a  more  complete  realization  of  it  as  a  reform  in  legisla- 
tion, but  that  we  abandon  it  altogether.  At  the  same 
time,  therefore,  that  there  is  a  vast  extension  of  the 
field  of  legislation,  we  abandon  all  sound  traditions 
as  to  the  method  of  legislative  activity.  Legislative 
bodies  not  only  lay  themselves  open  to  be  acted  upon 
by  outside  influences,  but  they  submit  to  clamor  more 
than  to  any  other  influence.  The  tendency  can  be 
traced  through  the  legislation  of  France,  England,  and 
the  United  States,  during  the  last  twenty  years.  If  a 
faction  of  any  kind  assails  the  legislature  with  sufficient 
determination,  they  carry  their  point  although  the 
sincere  opinion  of  nearly  all  who  vote  for  the  measure 
may  be  that  it  is  foolish,  or  idle,  or  mischievous,  or 

[1851 


186  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

crude,  or  irrational,  or  extravagant,  or  otherwise  im- 
proper. 

Opinions  differ  greatly  as  to  what  it  is  that  is  "fall- 
ing" or  "going  to  decay"  just  at  present.  These  phe- 
nomena support  the  notion  that  it  is  "the  state"  which 
is  passing  away.  On  the  one  hand,  the  highest  wisdom 
of  those  who  want  anything  now  is  to  practice  terrorism, 
to  make  themselves  as  disagreeable  as  possible,  so  that 
it  shall  be  necessary  to  conciliate  them,  and  those  who 
appeal  to  reason  find  themselves  disregarded.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  public  men  seek  peace  and  quiet  by 
sacrificing  any  one  who  cannot  or  does  not  know  enough 
to  make  a  great  clamor  in  order  to  appease  a  clamorous 
faction.  It  is  thought  to  be  the  triumph  of  practical 
statesmanship  to  give  the  clamorers  something  which 
will  quiet  them,  and  a  new  and  special  kind  of  legisla- 
tive finesse  has  been  developed,  viz.,  to  devise  projects 
which  shall  seem  to  the  clamorous  petitioners  to  meet 
their  demands,  yet  shall  not  really  do  it. 

The  most  important  case  of  legislation  of  this  kind 
which  has  been  passed  in  this  country  is  the  Bland 
Silver  Bill.  It  contains  no  rational  plan  for  accomplish- 
ing any  purpose  whatever.  It  never  had  any  purpose 
which  could  be  stated  intelligibly.  It  does  not  intro- 
duce the  double  standard,  does  not  help  debtors,  and  if 
it  favors  silver-miners  at  all,  does  so  in  an  insignificant 
degree.  It  satisfies  the  vanity  of  a  few  public  men, 
quiets  the  clamor  of  a  very  noisy  faction  who  did  not 
know  what  they  wanted  and  do  not  know  whether  they 
have  got  it  or  not,  complicates  the  monetary  system  of 
the  country,  and  contains  possibilities  of  great  mischief 
or  great  loss.  It  was  passed  as  a  patched-up  compromise 
under  the  most  rhythmical  and  best  sustained  clamor 
ever  brought  to  bear  on  a  public  question.     Those  who 


LEGISLATION  BY  CLAMOR  187 

raised  the  clamor  went  oflF  content  because  they  thought 
that  they  had  obtained  something^  and  they  now  resist 
the  repeal  of  the  law  because  they  would  feel  that  they 
had  lost  something. 

The  oleomargarine  law  is  another  case.  The  scien- 
tific evidence  submitted  to  the  committee  of  Congress 
was  clear  and  uniform,  that  oleomargarine  is  a  substi- 
tute for  butter,  just  as  maple  sugar  is  a  substitute  for 
cane  sugar;  that  it  is  not  adulterated  and  not  unwhole- 
some. If  it  had  been  regarded  as  unwholesome,  in  spite 
of  this  evidence,  or  if  it  had  been  the  purpose  to  make 
it  recognizable,  measures  having  these  purposes  in  view, 
however  ridiculous  (like  Senator  Blair's  proposition  to 
color  it  red  or  blue),  or  however  mischievous,  would  at 
least  have  been  rational.  The  law  to  tax  it  two  cents  a 
pound  was  not  rational,  even  with  the  object  of  prac- 
ticing protectionism  in  favor  of  the  dairymen.  If  the 
assertions  made  about  the  profits  of  the  manufacture, 
and  about  the  supply  and  demand  of  butter  in  the  mar- 
ket, are  even  approximately  true,  then  the  tax  comes 
out  of  the  manufacturers,  and  is  simply  a  toll  levied 
by  the  state  on  the  manufacture  of  a  new  commod- 
ity. It  cannot  avail  to  limit  the  production;  the  state 
simply  mulcts  the  producers  of  a  part  of  their  profits. 
The  enactment  was  a  case  of  sacrificing  to  a  clamorous 
faction  the  rights  and  interests  of  others  who  were 
absent. 

The  doctors  of  the  Koran,  at  Mecca  and  Medina, 
were  told  that  coflfee,  when  the  plant  was  yet  new  to 
them,  was  deleterious.  They  straightway  forbade  the 
faithful  to  drink  it,  and  obedience  or  disobedience  to 
this  law  embittered  the  strife  of  sects.  History  is  full 
of  similar  prejudice  against  what  is  new  and  similar 
state  interposition  against  improvement.     If  anybody 


188  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

who  finds  butter  beyond  his  means  wants  to  use  oleo- 
margarine, it  is  an  improvement  to  give  him  the  chance 
to  do  so. 

The  laws  about  convict  labor  are  other  instances. 
The  Illinois  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics  says  that  the 
clamor  is  a  proof  that  something  is  wrong,  and  that  the 
clamorers  are  not  bound  to  solve  the  problem  or  pro- 
pose a  remedy;  that  they  need  only  present  their  objec- 
tions to  what  is  and  demand  that  the  powers  that  be 
find  a  remedy.  The  labor  bureaus  themselves  might  be 
offered  as  a  case  of  legislation  by  clamor;  the  necessity 
of  justifying  their  own  existence,  and  of  conciliating  the 
laborers,  makes  labor  bureau  literature  one  of  the  trials 
of  the  day.  The  doctrine  that  clamor  is  a  proof  of  a 
grievance  is  so  easy  and  summary  that  it  is  sure  to  be 
popular,  and  its  broad  availability  for  the  purposes  of 
the  world-betterers  need  not  be  pointed  out.  It  is  also 
characteristic  of  this  school  of  thought  that  the  legis- 
lature is  commanded  to  find  a  remedy  for  the  alleged 
grievance.  A  legislature,  if  it  acts  rightly,  has  to  recon- 
cile interests  and  adjust  rights.  In  so  doing  it  can 
rarely  give  to  any  one  interest  a  clear  and  prompt  remedy 
for  what  that  interest  chooses  to  consider  a  grievance. 
Are  convicts  to  be  idle?  Are  the  tax-payers  to  be  in- 
definitely burdened.'^  These  are  parts  of  the  problem 
of  convict  labor;  but,  so  far  from  having  made  a  compre- 
hensive solution  of  the  convict  labor  question,  including 
these  elements  of  it,  the  people  who  have  assumed  to 
direct  legislation  show  that  they  have  not  even  mastered 
the  comparison  of  the  three  plans  proposed  for  using 
prison  labor. 

The  Illinois  Commissioner  says  that  a  wrong  ought 
not  to  be  overlooked  because  it  is  a  little  wrong.  That 
is  a, thoroughly  sound  doctrine,  and  it  would  be  easy 


LEGISLATION  BY  CLAMOR  189 

to  bring  from  labor  bureau  literature  illustrations  of  the 
wrong  of  neglecting  it;  but  business  competition  is  not 
a  wrong  at  all,  and  convict  labor  legislation  is  not  based 
on  any  established  grievance  of  free  laborers,  nor  is  it 
adapted  to  remedy  any  grievance,  if  one  existed. 

The  latest  case  of  legislation  by  clamor  is  the  Inter- 
State  Railroad  Act.  Clamor  has  forced  through  a  crude 
measure.  What  does  it  aim  at.f*  What  are  the  means 
by  which  it  attempts  to  attain  its  object.'^  These  are 
the  questions  which  should  go  before  legislation.  No 
one  can  answer  them  in  regard  to  this  bill.  Something 
has  been  done,  and  the  clamor  subsides.  To  act  in  this 
way  is  to  set  all  reason  and  common  sense  at  defiance. 
Thousands  of  voters  would  no  doubt  have  been  incensed 
at  Congress  if  it  had  done  nothing.  They  will  not  read 
the  bill,  and  could  not  understand  it  if  they  did;  but 
they  are  satisfied  that  something  has  been  done.  To  do 
a  bad  thing  in  legislatiop  is  far  worse  than  to  do  nothing. 

People  who  study  the  railroad  law,  and  who  cannot 
understand  it,  say  that  it  will  be  all  right  if  the  President 
only  appoints  a  good  commission,  and  that  the  law  will 
mean  whatever  the  commission  interprets  it  to  mean. 
We  have  come  very  far  away  from  old  and  sound  tradi- 
tions of  good  government  if  we  pin  our  faith  for  the 
adjustment  of  rights  on  the  wisdom  and  integrity  of 
men,  and  not  on  impersonal  institutions.  Where  has 
the  President  this  reserve  of  wise,  good,  and  competent 
men.'*  Where  did  he  get  them.'*  Where  does  he  keep 
them.'*  The  railroads,  banks,  insurance  companies, 
and  factory  owners  of  the  country  are  all  eagerly  looking 
for  just  that  kind  of  men,  and  are  ready  to  pay  them  from 
ten  to  thirty  thousand  dollars  a  year.  The  President 
must  keep  them  close,  therefore,  for  the  state  only  pays 
from  three  to  eight  or  ten  thousand.     To  read  the  cur- 


190  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

rent  discussion  of  this  law  one  would  think  that  our  rail- 
road system  only  needed  to  be  put  into  the  hands  of  five 
men  whom  the  President  can  pick  out  in  a  few  weeks  and 
who  will  be  able  to  solve  all  the  problems,  when  the  fact 
is  that  the  railroads  have  expended  energy  and  money 
without  stint  for  years  to  do  just  that  very  thing,  and 
have  themselves  employed  commissioners  at  high  sal- 
aries to  try  to  solve  their  problems  for  them.  It  is  true 
that  they  did  not  look  for  their  commissioners  among 
ex-members  of  Congress. 

In  all  these  cases  it  is  immaterial  what  opinion  one  may 
hold  as  to  the  subject  matter  of  the  legislation  or  what 
view  one  may  think  correct  about  the  questions  involved. 
The  point  is  that  this  legislation  by  clamor  fits  no  con- 
sistent idea  of  the  matter,  proceeds  on  no  rational  plan, 
settles  no  question,  but  only  produces  new  confusion 
and  new  evils,  carrying  the  difficulties  forward  in  con- 
stantly increasing  magnitude  as  the  consequences  of 
legislative  blunders  are  added  to  the  original  ills. 


THE  SHIFTING  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 


THE  SHIFTING  OF  RESPONSIBILITY 

If  there  are  any  ethical  propositions  which  may  be 
accepted  as  reasonably  established,  the  following  are 
among  the  number:  to  every  one  his  own;  that  respon- 
sibility should  be  equal  to  liberty;  that  rights  and 
duties  are  correlative;  and  that  those  should  reap  the 
consequences  who  have  set  in  action  the  causes.  The 
socialistic  and  semi-socialistic  propositions  which  are 
before  the  public  are  immoral  in  that  they  all  sin  against 
these  ethical  principles. 

We  are  using,  at  the  same  time,  two  weights  and  meas- 
ures. We  have  at  the  same  time  two  sets  of  dogmas, 
one  for  politics  and  the  other  for  social  matters.  We 
affirm  that  all  men  are  equal.  If  they  are  so,  and  if  a 
state  can  be  founded  on  the  assumption  that  they  are 
so,  then  each  one  of  them  must  take  his  share  in  the 
burdens  of  the  society;  especially  must  each  one  take  the 
responsibility  for  himself.  No  sooner,  however,  is  this 
inference  drawn  than  we  are  told  that  there  are  some 
people  who  are  not  equal  to  others  and  who  cannot  be 
held  to  the  same  duties  or  responsibilities.  They  are 
weak,  ignorant,  undisciplined,  poor,  vicious,  or  otherwise 
unfit.  It  is  asserted  that  the  strong,  learned,  well- 
trained,  rich,  and  virtuous  are  bound  to  take  care  of  the 
aforesaid  persons.  The  democratic  doctrine  in  politics 
is  that  wisdom  resides  in  the  masses;  that  it  is  a  false 
and  aristocratic  doctrine  to  maintain  that  the  educated 
or  trained  men  are  better  fitted  to  direct  common  public 
interests  than  the  uneducated ;  that,  in  fact,  the  educated 
men   fail   conspicuously   whenever   they   undertake   to 

[  193  ] 


194  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

lead,  and  that  there  is  a  resource  of  strong,  untrained 
common  sense  in  the  masses  on  which  a  state  may  be 
built  in  complete  security. 

No  sooner,  however,  have  we  accepted  this  doctrine 
as  orthodox  and  indisputable  matter  of  political  faith, 
than  we  are  told  that  educated  men  and  others  who  have 
enjoyed  exceptional  advantages,  or  who  have  acquired 
any  of  those  forms  of  training  which  make  men  better 

—  not  than  other  men,  but  than  they  would  themselves 
have  been  without  the  expenditure  of  capital  and  labor 

—  have  a  duty  to  perform:  to  lead,  guide,  and  instruct 
the  real  rulers.  It  is  asserted  that  when  the  masses 
go  astray  it  is  the  fault  of  the  educated  classes  who  did 
not  instruct  them.  Therefore  we  arrive  at  this  doctrine: 
if  a  young  man  desires  to  fit  himself  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  life  well,  he  needs  to  spend  his  youth  in  study 
and  work,  he  needs  to  accumulate  capital  and  to  subject 
himself  to  discipline.  This  is  a  duty  which  is  incumbent 
on  all  and  is  enjoined  on  all,  without  exception.  If, 
however,  some  conform  to  it  and  some  do  not,  let  it 
not  be  maintained  that  the  former  shall  have  wealth  and 
honor  and  power  in  the  society.  On  the  contrary,  only 
the  latter  shall  have  those  things;  for,  since  all  the  things 
which  improve  men  are  hard  and  irksome,  and  the  mass 
of  mankind  shirk  them,  and  the  power  rests  with  the 
mass,  the  "minority"  receive  as  their  share  the  function 
of  persuading  the  "majority"  to  do  right,  if  they  can, 
and  if  they  do  not  succeed,  they  bear  the  responsibility 
for  whatever  goes  wrong.  Such  a  doctrine  is  profoundly 
immoral,  for  there  is  a  dislocation  involved  in  it  between 
work  and  reward. 

We  encourage  our  children  to  earn  and  save  and  we 
stimulate  them  to  look  forward  to  the  accumulation  of 
wealth.     We  explain  to  them  the  advantages  of  capital. 


THE  SHIFTING  OF  RESPONSIBILITY         195 

We  point  out}  to  them  the  woes  of  poverty,  the  con- 
sequences of  improvidence,  the  penalties  of  idleness; 
the  better  parents  we  are  the  more  we  do  this.  We 
try  to  make  them  understand  the  world  in  which  they 
live,  so  that  they  may  hold  sound  principles  and  direct 
their  energies  wisely.  The  motive  and  purpose  is  to 
avoid  the  penalties  which  they  see  unwise  men  suffer,  and 
to  attain  to  the  material  prosperity  and  comfort  which 
all  men  need  and  desire.  Some  obey;  some  do  not. 
Those  who  obey  might  think  that  they  are  justified, 
then,  in  having,  holding,  and  enjoying  what  they  have 
earned.  They  might  say  that  wealth  is  a  reward  for 
duty  done,  and  that  the  faithful  workman  is  entitled 
to  sit  down  and  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  labor. 

If  one  of  them  draws  any  such  inference  he  will  be 
immediately  corrected  by  the  new  philosophy.  He  will 
be  told  that  wealth  is  a  duty  and  a  responsibility;  that 
he  holds  it  not  for  himself,  but  for  others;  and  if  he  asks 
for  whom,  he  will  be  told  that  he  is  only  a  trustee'  for 
those  who  did  not  obey  the  teachings  of  boyhood  about 
industry,  temperance,  prudence,  and  frugality.  He 
tried  to  take  his  own  course  and  let  others  take  theirs; 
he  tried  to  do  right  and  prosper  and  let  others  do  ill  and 
suffer  if  they  preferred;  but  he  finds,  as  a  result  of  his 
course,  that  he  has  made  himself  responsible  for  those 
who  took  the  other  course,  while  they  are  not  responsible 
for  anybody,  not  even  for  themselves.  This  new  kind  of 
trustee  also  is  not  allowed  to  administer  his  trust  for  the 
benefit  of  the  beneficiaries,  according  to  his  own  judg- 
ment; that  is  done  for  him  by  the  doctors  of  the  new 
philosophy.  His  function  is  limited  to  producing  and 
saving. 

If  a  man,  in  the  organization  of  labor,  employs  other 
men  to  assist  in  an  industrial  enterprise,  it  was  formerly 


196  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

thought  that  the  rights  and  duties  of  the  parties  were 
defined  by  the  contract  which  they  made  with  each 
other.  The  new  doctrine  is  that  the  employer  becomes 
responsible  for  the  welfare  of  the  employees  in  a  number 
of  respects.  They  do  not  each  remain  what  they  were 
before  this  contract,  independent  members  of  society, 
each  pursuing  happiness  in  his  own  way  according  to 
his  own  ideas  of  it.  The  employee  is  not  held  to  any 
new  responsibility  for  the  welfare  of  the  employer; 
the  duties  are  all  held  to  lie  on  the  other  side.  The  em- 
ployer must  assure  the  employed  against  the  risks  of 
his  calling,  and  even  against  his  own  negligence;  the 
employee  is  not  held  to  assure  himself,  as  a  free  man 
with  all  his  own  responsibilities,  although  the  scheme 
may  be  so  devised  that  the  assurance  is  paid  for  out  of 
his  wages;  he  is  released  from  responsibility  for  himself. 
The  common  law  recognizes  the  only  true  and  rational 
liability  of  employers,  viz.,  that  which  is.deducible  from 
the  responsibilities  which  the  employer  has  assumed  in 
the  relation.  The  new  doctrines  which  are  preached 
and  which  have  been  embodied  in  the  legislation  of  some 
countries,  are  not  based  on  any  rational  responsibility 
of  the  employer  but  on  the  fact  that  the  employee  may 
sometimes  find  himself  in  a  very  hard  case,  either  through 
his  own  negligence  or  through  unavoidable  mischances 
of  life,  and  that  there  is  nobody  else  who  can  be  made 
to  take  care  of  him  but  his  employer. 

In  the  advance  of  the  industrial  organization  it  has 
come  about  that  interests  have  been  subdivided  and 
rights  have  been  created  in  the  various  interests.  The 
most  important  of  these  divisions  is  that  between  a 
specific  interest,  like  that  of  the  mortgagees  or  bond- 
holders, and  a  contingent  interest,  like  that  of  the  title- 
holder  or  the  stock-holder.     The  tendency  to  separate 


THE  SHIFTING  OF  RESFONSIBILITY         197 

these  interests,  and  to  define  the  rights  corresponding 
to  them,  is  rich  in  advantage  to  different  classes  in  the 
community  and  in  advantage  to  the  industrial  devel- 
opment. The  specific  interest  in  the  gains  of  the  enter- 
prise is  that  of  the  landlord,  mortgagee,  bondholder, 
or  employee;  the  contingent  interest  in  the  gains  is 
that  of  the  title-holder,  stock-holder,  tenant,  or  employer. 
The  specific  interest  is  always  free  from  risk  and  excluded 
from  control.  The  maintenance  of  this  separation  of 
interests  is  not  possible  unless  there  is  the  most  firm 
enforcement  of  contracts.  In  some  of  the  cases  the  dif- 
ficulty is  that  the  specific  interest  tries  to  get  a  share  in 
the  contingent  gains,  when  it  is  found  out  that  there  are 
such.  In  other  cases,  the  contingent  gain  not  having 
been  realized,  those  who  own  it  try  to  encroach  upon  the 
specific  or  guaranteed  interest.  If  it  is  possible  for  either 
to  succeed,  then  a  contract  relation  is  transformed  into 
a  relation  of  "  heads  I  win,  tails  you  los^.'*  The  responsi- 
bilities of  the  parties  are  made  to  vary  from  the  engage- 
ments into  which  they  have  entered.  The  current  attacks 
on  landlords  and  creditors  are,  therefore,  radically  un- 
just, and  the  insecurity  for  the  more  refined  relations 
and  interests  which  arises  from  the  weakening  of  the 
contract  relation  is  injurious  to  the  whole  industrial 
organization. 

In  short,  the  policy  which  we  are  invited  to  accept 
is  one  in  which  every  duty  which  a  man  accomplishes  is 
made  the  basis,  not  for  rights  and  rewards,  but  for  new 
duties  and  subjection  to  new  demands.  Every  duty 
which  is  neglected  becomes  a  ground  for  new  rights  and 
claims.  The  well-to-do  man  is  to  do  without  things 
which  his  means  might  buy  for  himself  in  order  that  he 
may  pay  taxes  to  provide  those  same  things  in  a  public 
way  for  people  who  have  not  earned  them.    The  man  who 


198  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

by  toil  has  tried  to  get  the  knowledge  which  alone 
enables  men  to  judge,  is  not  to  have  the  deciding  voice, 
but  is  to  stand  behind  the  man  who  has  neglected  to  get 
knowledge  while  the  latter  gives  the  deciding  voice, 
and  to  take  or  avert  the  consequences.  All  this  is 
preached  to  us  on  the  ground  that  it  is  public-spirited, 
unselfish,  and  altruistic.  It  is  immoral  to  the  very  last 
degree  and  opposed  to  the  simplest  common  sense.  It 
cannot  fail  to  avenge  itself  in  social  consequences  of  the 
most  serious  character. 


THE  STATE  AS  AN  "ETHICAL  PERSON 


THE  STATE  AS  AN   "ETHICAL  PERSON" 

We  meet  often,  in  current  social  discussion,  with  the 
assertion  that  "the  state  is  an  ethical  person."  This  is 
not  a  proposition  concerning  a  relation  of  things,  which 
is  said  to  be  true,  nor  is  it  an  observation  of  fact  which 
can  be  verified  by  a  new  examination;  it  is  an  assertion 
in  regard  to  the  standpoint  which  should  be  adopted 
or  the  mode  of  conceiving  of  the  matter  which  should 
be  accepted.  Such  assertions  are,  no  doubt,  extremely 
useful  and  fruitful  when  they  are  correct;  but  they  are 
also  very  easily  made,  which  implies  that  they  are  very 
liable  to  be  incorrect,  and  they  furnish  broad  ground  for 
fallacious  deductions.    Let  us  examine  this  one. 

The  student  of  social  welfare  finds  that  the  limit  of 
social  well-being  of  the  society  in  the  progress  of  time 
depends  on  the  possibility  of  increasing  the  capital 
faster  than  the  numbers  increase.  But  so  soon  as  he 
comes  to  consider  the  increase  of  capital,  he  finds  himself 
face  to  face  with  ethical  facts  and  forces.  Capital  is 
the  fruit  of  industry,  temperance,  prudence,  frugality, 
and  other  industrial  virtues.  Here  then  the  welfare  of 
society  is  found  to  be  rooted  in  moral  forces,  and  the 
relation  between  ethical  and  social  phenomena  is  given 
in  terms  of  actual  facts  and  not  of  rhetorical  abstractions. 
It  comes  to  this:  that  the  question  how  well  off  we  can 
be  depends  at  last  on  the  question  how  rational,  virtuous, 
and  enlightened  we  are.  Hence  the  student  of  society 
finds  that  if  the  society  has  developed  all  the  social 
and  economic  welfare  which  its  existing  moral  develop- 

[2011 


202  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

ment  will  justify  or  support,  then  there  is  no  way  to  get 
any  more  welfare,  save  by  advancing  the  moral  develop- 
ment. It  is  possible  that  there  may  be  obstacles  in  the 
political  or  social  organization  which  prevent  the  actual 
moral  power  of  the  people  from  attaining  its  maximum 
result  in  social  and  material  welfare.  In  any  existing 
society  there  are  such  obstacles,  and  the  field  of  reform 
lies  in  dealing  with  them.  But  if  we  may  imagine  such 
obstacles  to  be  removed  and  all  the  social  machinery 
to  be  perfect,  we  should  then  have  distinctly  before  us 
the  fact  that  for  every  increase  of  social  well-being  we 
must  provide  by  ourselves  becoming  better  men. 

It  is  only  putting  the  same  statement  in  another 
form  to  say  that  whatever  deficiencies  there  are  in  our 
society  which  are  important  or  radical  —  that  is  to  say, 
which  surpass  in  magnitude  the  harm  which  comes  from 
defects  in  the  social  machinery  —  are  due  to  deficiencies 
in  our  moral  development.  We  are  as  well  off  as  we 
deserve  to  be.  We  are  as  well  off  as  such  moral  crea- 
tures as  we  are  can  be.  The  solidarity  of  society  holds 
us  together  so  that,  although  some  of  us  are  better  than 
others  in  industrial  virtue,  we  must  all  go  together. 

Now  arises  the  interesting  question:  Where  can  we 
get  any  more  moral  power?  Where  is  there  any  spring 
or  source  of  it  which  we  have  not  yet  used.'*  What  new 
stimulus  can  be  applied  to  the  development  of  moral 
energy  to  quicken  or  intensify  it?  When,  therefore,  we 
are  told  that  the  state  is  an  ethical  person,  the  question 
we  have  to  ask  is  this:  Is  the  state  a  source  of  moral 
energy  which  can  contribute  what  is  needed?  Can  it 
bring  to  us  from  some  outside  source  that  which,  by  the 
facts  of  the  case,  we  lack?  If  it  can,  then  indeed  it  is 
the  most  beneficent  patron  we  possess;  it  has  a  function 
which  is  on  the  same  plane  with  that  ascribed  by  some 


THE  STATE  AS  AN  "ETHICAL  PERSON"     203 

theological  doctrines  to  the  Holy  Spirit.  Or,  if  not  that, 
then  it  has  a  function  similar  to  that  of  the  church  and 
the  school,  only  far  more  elevated  and  incomparably 
more  direct  and  effective;  and  it  executes  this  function, 
not  by  acting  on  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men,  but  by 
mechanical  operations,  regulations,  and  ceremonial  activ- 
ities. If  the  assertion  that  the  state  is  an  ethical  person 
does  not  mean  this,  if  it  does  not  mean  that,  in  the  midst 
of  our  social  struggles  and  perplexities,  the  state  is  an 
independent  source  of  power  which  can  be  called  in  to 
help,  by  contributing  the  ethical  energy  which  we  need, 
then  that  assertion  is  an  empty  jingle  of  words,  or,  at 
most,  it  refers  vaguely  to  the  general  advantage  of  the 
association  and  co-operation  of  men  with  each  other. 
It  appears,  therefore,  that  the  assertion  that  we  ought 
to  conceive  of  the  state  as  an  ethical  person  does  not  rest 
upon  any  such  solid  analysis  of  the  facts  of  life  and  the 
nature  of  the  state  as  would  make  it  a  useful  and  fruitful 
proposition  for  further  study  of  social  phenomena,  but 
that  it  is  a  product  of  the  phrase-mill.  It  is  one  of  those 
mischievous  dicta  which  seem  to  say  something  profound; 
but,  upon  examination,  prove  to  say  nothing  which  will 
bear  analysis.  In  current  discussion,  especially  of  state 
interference,  this  proposition  is  always  invoked  just  when 
the  real  crisis  of  discussion  comes,  and  it  serves  to  cover 
the  lack  of  true  analysis  and  sound  thinking. 

If  we  turn  aside  from  the  special  field  of  social  discus- 
sion for  a  moment  to  call  up  accepted  principles  of  ethics 
and  of  sound  thinking,  we  shall  find  it  undisputed  that 
the  source  of  ethical  energy  is  in  the  hearts  and  minds 
of  human  beings  and  not  anywhere  else.  Institutions 
of  which  the  family,  the  church,  and  the  school  are  the 
chief,  which  have  for  their  purpose  the  development  of 
ethical  energy  in  the  rising  generation,  cost  energy  and 


204  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

give  it  back.  The  institution  itself  produces  nothing. 
It  is  like  any  other  machine;  it  only  gives  direction  and 
combination  or  division  to  the  forces  which  are  put  into 
it.  It  is  the  moral  force  of  the  parent  and  teacher  which 
develops  the  moral  force  of  the  child;  the  institution  is 
only  a  convenient  arrangement  or  apparatus  for  bringing 
the  one  to  bear  on  the  other.  The  institution  is  at  its 
best  when  it  allows  this  personal  contact  and  relation- 
ship to  be  most  direct  and  simple  —  that  is,  when  the 
institution  itself  counts  for  the  least  possible.  When  we 
turn  to  the  state,  we  find  that  It  is  not  even  in  nature  and 
purpose,  or  pretence,  an  institution  like  those  mentioned. 
It  has  its  purposes,  which  are  high  and  important,  and 
for  these  it  needs  moral  power  and  consumes  moral 
power.  The  family,  the  church,  and  the  school  are  pre- 
paring men  and  women  of  moral  power  for  the  service 
of  the  state;  they  hand  them  over,  such  as  they  are, 
to  be  citizens  and  members  of  the  commonwealth.  In 
that  position  their  moral  capacities  are  drawn  upon; 
speaking  of  the  society  as  a  whole,  we  must  say  that  they 
are  used  up.  The  practice  of  virtue  increases  virtue, 
whether  it  be  in  the  state  or  the  store,  the  profession  or 
the  handicraft;  but  there  is  no  more  reason  on  that  ac- 
count to  call  the  state  an  ethical  person  than  there  is  to 
apply  the  same  high-sounding  epithet  to  trades  or  pro- 
fessions. There  is  no  sense  in  which  it  may  be  properly 
used  in  the  one  case  in  which  it  would  not  equally  well 
apply  to  the  other. 


THE  NEW  SOCIAL  ISSUE 


THE  NEW  SOCIAL  ISSUE 

The  effect  of  the  great  improvements  in  the  arts  during 
the  last  century  is  to  produce  a  social  and  economic  order 
which  is  controlled  by  tremendous  forces,  and  which 
comprehends  the  whole  human  race;  which  is  automatic 
in  the  mode  of  its  activity;  which  is  delicate  and  refined 
in  its  susceptibility  to  the  influence  of  interferences. 
It  is  therefore  at  once  too  vast  in  its  magnitude  and 
scope  for  us  to  comprehend  it,  and  too  delicate  in  its 
operation  for  us  to  follow  out  and  master  its  details. 

Under  such  circumstances  the  conservative  position 
in  social  discussion  is  the  only  sound  position.  We  do 
not  need  to  resist  all  change  or  discussion  —  that  is  not 
conservatism.  We  may,  however,  be  sure  that  the  only 
possible  good  for  society  must  come  of  evolution  not  of 
revolution.  We  have  a  right  to  condemn,  and  to  refuse 
our  attention  to  flippant  and  ignorant  criticisms  or  prop- 
ositions of  reform;  we  can  rule  out  at  once  all  plans 
to  reconstruct  society,  on  anybody's  system,  from  the 
bottom  up.  We  may  refuse  to  act  to-day  under  the 
motive  of  redressing  some  wrong  done,  ignorantly 
perhaps,  one  or  two  or  more  centuries  ago;  or  under 
the  motive  of  bringing  in  a  golden  age  which  we  think 
men  can  attain  to,  one  or  two  or  more  centuries  in  the 
future.  We  may  refuse  to  listen  to  any  propositions 
which  are  put  forward  with  menaces  and  may  demand 
that  all  who  avail  themselves  of  the  right  of  free  dis- 
cussion shall  remain  upon  the  field  of  discussion  and 
refrain  from  all  acts  until  they  have  duly  and  fairiy 
convinced  the  reason  and  conscience  of  the  community. 

[207] 


208  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

We  may  demand  that  no  strain  shall  be  put  on  any  of 
our  institutions,  such  as  majority  rule,  by  a  rash  deter- 
mination to  override  dissent  and  remonstrance  and  to 
realize  something  for  which  there  has  been  collected  a 
hasty  majority,  animated  by  heterogeneous  motives  and 
purposes. 

The  institutions  which  we  possess  have  cost  something. 
Few  people  seem  to  know  how  much  —  it  is  one  of  the 
great  defects  in  our  education  that  we  are  not  in  a  posi- 
tion to  teach  the  history  of  civilization  in  such  a  way  as 
to  train  even  educated  men  to  know  the  cost  at  which 
everything  which  to-day  separates  us  from  the  brutes 
has  been  bought  by  the  generations  which  have  preceded 
us.  As  time  goes  on  we  can  win  more,  but  we  shall  win 
it  only  in  the  same  way,  that  is,  by  slow  and  painful  toil 
and  sacrifice,  not  by  adopting  some  prophet's  scheme  of 
the  universe;  therefore  we  have  a  right  to  ask  that  all 
social  propositions  which  demand  our  attention  shall  be 
practical  in  the  best  sense,  that  is,  that  they  shall  aim 
to  go  forward  in  the  limits  and  on  the  lines  of  sound 
development  out  of  the  past,  and  that  none  of  our  in- 
terests shall  be  put  in  jeopardy  on  the  chance  that 
Comte,  or  Spencer,  or  George,  or  anybody  else  has  solved 
the  world-problem  aright.  If  anybody  has  a  grievance 
against  the  social  order,  it  is,  on  the  simplest  principles 
of  common  sense,  the  right  of  busy  men  whose  attention 
he  demands  that  he  shall  set  forth  in  the  sharpest  and 
precisest  manner  what  it  is;  any  allegation  of  injustice 
which  is  vague  is,  by  its  own  tenor,  undeserving  of 
attention. 

Finally,  we  each  have  a  right  to  have  our  liberty  re- 
spected in  such  form  as  we  have  inherited  it  under  the 
laws  and  institutions  of  our  country.  The  fashion  of 
the  day  is  to  sneer  at  this  demand  and  to  propose  to  make 


THE  NEW  SOCIAL  ISSUE  209 

short  work  of  it  so  soon  as  enough  power  shall  have  been 
collected  to  carry  out  the  projects  of  certain  social  sects. 
Let  us,  however,  give  a  moment's  calm  attention  to  it; 
the  point  is  worth  it,  for  here  is  where  the  tendencies 
now  at  work  in  society  are  to  meet  in  collision.  I  do 
not  mean  by  liberty  any  power  of  self-determination 
which  all  should  allow  to  each  or  which  each  may  de- 
mand of  God,  or  nature,  or  society;  I  mean  by  it  the  ag- 
gregate of  rights,  privileges,  and  prerogatives  which  the 
laws  and  institutions  of  this  country  secure  to  each  one 
of  us  to-day  as  conditions  under  which  he  may  fight  out 
the  struggle  for  existence  and  the  competition  of  life  in 
this  society.  I  call  this  liberty  a  thing  which  we  have  a 
"right"  to  demand,  because,  as  a  fact,  the  laws  give  us 
that  right  now;  when  I  speak  of  rights  and  liberty, 
therefore,  I  wish  to  be  understood  as  standing  upon  the 
law  of  the  land  and  not  on  any  platform  of  metaphysical 
or  ethical  deduction. 

Such  being  the  notion  of  liberty,  it  is  plain  that  it 
stands  on  the  line  where  right  and  might  meet;  where 
war  passes  over  into  peace,  the  guarantees  of  rights 
under  law  taking  the  place  of  the  domination  of  might 
under  lawlessness,  and  the  limitation  of  rights  by  other 
rights  taking  the  place  of  the  limitation  of  powers  by 
other  powers.  Many  of  the  proposed  changes  in  society 
aim  to  alter  the  demarcation  of  rights,  and  they  aim  to  do 
this,  not  for  a  fuller  realization  of  peace,  order,  liberty, 
and  security,  by  a  nicer  adjustment  of  rights,  but  they 
avowedly  aim  to  do  it  in  the  interest  of  certain  groups 
and  classes  of  persons.  At  this  point,  therefore,  parties 
must  be  formed  and  issues  must  be  joined.  On  one 
side  is  liberty  under  law,  rights  and  interests  being 
adjusted  by  the  struggle  of  the  parties  under  the  natu- 
ral laws  of  the  social  and  industrial  order  and  within 


JOt  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

kmiqs  set  by  impersoiud  and  "equal'*  le«riiJation:  on 
tibe  oikeiw  stake  itgtibttKiB.  cowrasting  ol  kigislatioD 
to  ^Mop  i^gMs  «id  mtnrests  m  f^Tor  ol  selected 
mrt  and  arbitrary  notion  o£ 
by  posons  who,  by  the  f  unda- 
«(  Ae  S(]pslan,  must  assume  to  be  com> 
pdaft  to  decide  lAal  DUgkt  to  be  done  with  us  all  and 
wko  SMBst  at  tfe  same  time  themselves  be  above  the 
■MMt  liHidHMBftll  weaknesses  of  human  nature.  There 
B  HMHi  lor  a  Taot  no^ge  aad  variety  of  opinion  and  senti- 
Meftt  <Hi  cftker  side  ol  this  issue,  but  it  is  the  issue  which 
is  lyoft  «s  aad  OK  wbi^  every  man  must  take  sides. 

Olae  «l  Ae  wotldinqpiovefs  said:  *'We  must  know 
ham  to  do  Twktt  to  mankind  in  general,  in  ord^  to 
them  happy.**  He  naJvdy  expressed  the  senti- 
wkkk  itiTmTit*i  tke  vkole  school  of  opinion  to 
ke  hflo^gfd,  froHi  its  cxtremest  li^t  wing  to  its 
left  wiag.  They  must  ol  oourse  know  just 
what  nfin  need  to  render  them  haj^y  and  they  must  be 

tibat  is,  in  trampling  on  liberty 
to  aif  orce  hi4>piness. 
H  now  we  look  to  see  mho  are  to  be  the  victims  of  the 

ol  society,  it  is  plain  that  they 
at  tins  BOBeidU  bold  the  worid  of  trade,  in- 
fnane^  liannimfaliwi.  law,  and  politics  in  their 
and  tbey  bold  it,  not  because  they  inherited  it 
tbcj  belong  to  any  pavBeged  cbiss,  but  they 
itiol  ol  it  by  natoni  sdection  and  be- 
tbey  kave  made  H.    Is  it  fikeiy  tbat  they  will  be 
Are  they  men  to  be  coerced  by  damor,  or 
or  tbreats?    So  far  there  has 
iSsi  iMMiw  except  on  one  side,  and  the 
9m.  tbat  side  are  beginning  already  to  count 
tbe  batde  won.     It  takes  a  long  time  for  men  who  are 


THE  NEW  SOCIAL  ISSUE  fll 

abaothed  in  practical  life  to  find  out  what  tbe  fitefaiy 
men  are,  for  the  time  hang,  intereated  ia,  and  atfll  Io^^et 
for  them  to  make  op  their  nmida  that  ta&  k  to  nwm  to 
anything;  that  point  has  not  yet  been  reached,  even  by 
the  educated  community,  in  regard  to  the  i«ae  widck  I 
have  described.  When  it  is  reached  we  diall  see  wlMilMr 
the  people  of  the  United  States  bare  lost  tlMir  iM»'F<ifral 
sense  or  not. 

It  is  impossible  to  look  with  any  eomplafgacj  os  tke 
probability  that  this  iasoe  is  to  be  nrisfd  aad  fiwif^tl  cmL. 
No  doubt  the  new  power  ol  "*■*■  ■*''  in  tikese  last  two 
or  three  centuries  to  reAed  on  the  phenoHMBS  aad  ex* 
periences  of  life  has  been  and  is  rich  in  adraatajge  lor 
the  race;  it  has  taken  the  place  of  an  instiacthre  Kiing 
under  the  traditional  and  ^mple  aeqaiesceace  in  it, 
has  devekjped  the  reason  aad  consdcaee  oi  afl;  batiti 
at  present  a  tort  dJ  ditwiase.  A  society  wUck 
its  inheritance  of  thought  and  faith  into  questioa  at  < 
and  before  it  has  ^tepaired  an  adequate  appmtas  lor 
dealing  with  the  questions  and  problems  wlnek  it  nuses, 
may  fall  into  chaos.  And  it  is  that  issue  in  particnlar — 
one  which  shows  that  the  pec^le  are  not  firm  in  their 
conception  ol  liberty  aad  are  aot  xead|y  aad  kard-kcaded 
in  their  judgment  of  soeial  fads  aad  wknw — wkick  brings 
with  it  the  greatest  jeopardy  tor  the  eaaeaHiak  welfare  ol 
society. 

Constitationa]  liberty,  so  far  as  we  have  been  able  to 
realize  it,  stands  just  now  as  a  happy  phase  ol  cirfl 
institutions  which  we  have  been  able  to  realize  for  a 
moment  in  the  interval  between  the  downfall  of  aristoc- 
racy and  the  rise  of  democracy;  for  tkere  can  be  ao 
doubt  that  the  epidemic  of  socialism  is  only  the  turma^ 
of  all  social  powers  in  obeisance  and  flattexy  toward  tiie 
new  and  rising  powo*.     We  are  pas^ng  throng  a  tran- 


212  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

sition  over  to  a  new  illustration  of  the  fact  that  the  thing 
which  forever  rules  the  world  is  not  what  is  true  or  what 
is  right,  even  relatively,  but  only  what  is  strong.  The 
main  question  which  remains  to  be  solved  is  whether  the 
elements  of  strength  in  the  new  order  are  distributed  as 
many  now  believe;  whether  democracy  is  a  stable  order 
at  all  or  whether  it  will  at  once  fall  a  prey  to  plutocracy. 
So  surely  as  democracy  yields  to  socialism,  socialism 
will  prove  a  middle  stage  toward  plutocracy. 


SPECULATIVE  LEGISLATION 


SPECULATIVE  LEGISLATION 

The  Germans  have  lately  invented  a  new  department 
of  social  interest  —  Socialpolitik  —  which  is  neither 
politics,  political  economy,  nor  social  science;  it  is  in 
fact  a  department  of  speculation  as  to  legislative  meas- 
ures which  might  be  adopted  to  alter  existing  social 
relations.  Any  legislation  which  does  not  proceed  out 
of  antecedents,  but  is  invented  in  order  to  attain  to 
ideals,  is  necessarily  speculative;  it  deals  with  unverified 
and  unverifiable  propositions  and  lacks  all  guarantees 
of  its  practicability  or  of  the  nature  of  its  results.  It  is, 
however,  very  easy  and  fascinating  to  plan  such  legis- 
lation; the  enterprise  is  sure  to  be  popular  and  remon- 
strances against  it  are  sure  to  produce  irritation.  Such 
remonstrances  imply  that  the  speculators  have  under- 
taken too  much  or  are  too  confident  and  self-assured. 

Nothing  can  be  more  antagonistic  to  the  spirit  of 
Anglo-American  law  than  speculative  legislation.  That 
law  is  marked  by  slow  and  careful  growth,  historic  con- 
tinuity, practical  sense,  and  aversion  to  all  dogmatism 
and  abstractionism.  While  it  is  as  broad  in  its  general 
maxims  and  generalizations  as  the  facts  will  warrant 
and  bold  enough  to  draw  all  the  deductions  which 
legitimately  follow,  it  refuses  to  assimilate  unverifiable 
elements. 

Speculative  legislation  is  really  advocated  by  assertions 
which  are  predictions,  and  it  is  impossible  to  meet  it 
by  arguments  which  are  other  than  contradictory 
predictions.  But  all  men  of  sober  thought  and  scholarly 
responsibility  dislike  to  argue  by  predictions. 

The  most  remarkable  case  of  speculative  legislation 

1215] 


216  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

in  our  history  is  the  Inter-state  Commerce  Law:  and, 
as  it  was  not  permitted  to  argue  against  it  by  predictions 
as  to  its  effect,  it  is  the  more  important  to  follow  its 
workings  closely. 

Twenty-five  years  ago  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  pass  such  a  law.  Part  of  the  people  would  have  said 
at  once  that  it  was  unconstitutional,  and  these  would 
have  brought  at  once  the  sound  instincts  of  their  political 
sense  to  bear  upon  it.  The  real  argument  against  it  is 
now  just  what  it  always  was  and  always  will  be:  not  that 
it  produces  one  or  another  specific  evil  effect,  but  that  it 
is  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  our  institutions,  wrong  in 
principle,  and  sure  to  produce  evil  effects  whether  the 
specific  evils  could  be  predicted  or  not. 

At  present  different  interests  are  anxiously  watching 
its  workings  to  see  whether  they  are  to  gain  by  it  or 
not.  They  propose  to  take  sides  on  it  accordingly.  But 
this  means  only  that  it  will  necessarily  favor  some  in- 
terests at  the  expense  of  others,  from  which  it  follows 
that  it  must  impair  the  prosperity  and  welfare  of  the 
commonwealth  as  a  whole. 

It  is  said  of  the  law  that  it  has  come  to  stay,  and  that 
we  shall  never  go  back  to  the  old  state  of  things.  It  is 
to  be  feared  that  this  is  true;  it  is  one  of  the  worst  facts  in 
the  case.  When  such  a  law  has  produced  its  effects, 
it  has  produced  a  distortion  of  the  industrial  system; 
but  industry  adjusts  itself  as  soon  as  possible  to  new 
conditions  of  any  kind.  When  the  distortion  is  effected 
the  chance  of  observing  it  has  gone  by.  People  get  used 
to  the  new  state  of  things;  they  suppose  that  it  is  the 
natural  and  only  proper  one.  Reform  or  improvement 
is  blocked  by  inertia,  habit,  and  tradition;  paper  money 
and  the  tariff  are  already  instances  of  this;  this  new  law 
is  making  another. 


SPECULATIVE  LEGISLATION  «17 

It  has  been  observed  that  the  effect  of  the  law  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  protective  tariff  on  Ohio  wool  against 
California  wool.  It  goes  much  further  than  this.  If  it 
bars  California  wool  out  of  the  European  market,  it  is 
protective  on  other  California  industries  which  hitherto 
have  not  paid  so  well  as  wool.  It  will  act  as  a  protec- 
tive tariff  on  all  the  separate  local  units  or  groups.  It 
tends  to  divide  the  country  up  into  separate  economic 
units  with  a  tariff  around  each. 

Reasoning  upon  it  in  another  way  we  reach  the  same 
result.  There  is  no  place  in  the  world  where  railroads 
are  as  important  as  on  this  North  American  continent. 
It  is  a  vast,  solid  piece  of  territory,  cut  by  few  water 
inlets  when  compared  with  Europe.  Inside  of  it  rail- 
road communication  is  of  commanding  importance. 
So  long  as  railroads  are  new,  and  their  economic  opera- 
tion is  as  yet  undeveloped,  this  continent  must  be  the 
scene  of  many  rude  and  abrupt  changes,  vicissitudes, 
and  difficulties  due  to  the  development  of  transporta- 
tion. The  general  effect,  however,  has  been  to  open  up 
the  whole  continent  to  superficial  settlement,  to  unify 
the  whole  continent  in  industrial  organization,  to  make 
local  division  of  labor,  to  establish  the  widest  and  most 
healthful,  because  freest,  industrial  organization  that 
ever  has  existed.  In  doing  this  railroads  have  often 
acted  as  if  they  laid  one  square  mile  over  another  or 
as  if  they  drew  a  remoter  place  nearer  than  a  nearer 
one.  By  giving  greater  mobility  to  capital  and  popula- 
tion they  have  distributed  and  redistributed  them; 
have  concentrated  or  dispersed  them  as  the  forces  might 
act. 

Now,  to  limit,  counteract,  and  reverse  the  action  of 
the  roads,  by  the  short-haul  clause  which  really  antag- 
onizes  the  most   peculiar  and   important   fact  in  the 


218  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

economy  of  railroads,  is  to  undo  their  action  and  to 
force  (if  the  act  could  be  carried  out)  the  production  of 
approximately  that  state  of  things  which  would  have 
existed  if  there  had  been  no  invention  of  the  locomotive, 
viz.t  local  economic  units,  each  complete  in  itself,  with 
low  division  of  labor  as  between  parts  of  the  country 
and  less  interchange  of  products  between  them. 

The  fact  that  the  industry  of  the  country  is  producing 
food  and  raw  materials  only  makes  the  mischief  greater, 
for  these  products  cannot  be  produced  on  a  large  scale 
unless  they  are  transported.  The  act  may  put  an  end 
to  passes  and  limit  railroad  wars,  but  its  eflfect  is  to 
destroy  the  transportation  business. 

The  act  was  one  which  nobody  could  construe.  It 
was  said  that  the  Commission  would  construe  it,  but  they 
now  dechne  to  do  so;  they  say  they  must  wait  for  cases, 
with  real  parties  in  interest.  Plainly  here  are  two  sys- 
tems of  jurisprudence  and  administration  mixed  together. 
On  the  administrative-regulative  system,  e.  g.y  of  Ger- 
many, the  administrative  body  must  establish  ordinances 
and  make  known  how  it  will  act;  it  must  solve  the 
doubts  of  parties  affected,  give  them  directions,  and 
relieve  them  of  responsibility.  It  is  the  Anglo-American 
system  to  have  no  regulative-administrative  oflBcers,  to 
leave  administration  to  courts,  and  to  let  courts  act 
only  on  cases.  The  Anglo-American  system  leaves  the 
citizen  to  consult  his  legal  adviser  on  the  law,  and  to 
act  on  his  own  responsibility  because  it  has  left  him 
free.  If  the  law  only  defines  terms  and  conditions  of 
social  and  industrial  life,  it  needs  no  regulative  func- 
tionaries and  has  no  place  for  them.  Giving  the  citizen 
liberty,  it  holds  him  to  responsibility.  If  our  Commis- 
sion does  not  interpret  the  law,  what  is  it  for.^^  We  have 
then  only  a  blind  enactment,  and  whatever  course  rail- 


SPECULATIVE  LEGISLATION  219 

road  officers  take  under  it  they  may  find  after  two  or 
three  years  of  litigation  that  they  have  made  mistakes 
and  incurred  great  liabilities.  It  is  mischievous  legis- 
lation to  create  any  such  situation. 

The  act  is  also  producing  a  pooling  system  stricter 
than  any  which  voluntary  agreement  could  establish. 
Railroad  authority  of  the  highest  rank  has  asserted  that 
the  effect  of  pooling  in  England  has  been  to  arrest  rail- 
road improvements  there  for  the  last  fifteen  years.  Its 
effect  must  be  to  stereotype  existing  arrangements  as 
to  facilities  and  prices. 

It  is  a  characteristic  of  speculative  legislation  that  it 
very  generally  produces  the  exact  opposite  of  the  result 
it  was  hoped  to  get  from  it.  The  reason  is  because  the 
elements  of  any  social  problem  which  we  do  not  know  so 
far  surpass  in  number  and  importance  those  which  we 
do  know  that  our  solutions  have  far  greater  chance  to 
be  wrong  than  to  be  right.  This  act  promises  to  be 
another  conspicuous  illustration — perhaps  a  stronger  one 
than  any  previous  instance,  because  in  this  case  we  did 
not  know  what  we  wanted  to  do,  nor  how  we  meant  to 
do  it,  nor,  when  we  got  through,  did  we  know  what  we 
had  done. 

Legislation  among  us  is  far  too  easy  for  us  to  endure 
speculative  legislation.  Among  us  the  legislative  ma- 
chinery can  be  set  in  motion  too  readily  and  too  fre- 
quently; it  is  too  easy  for  the  irresponsible  hands  of 
the  ignorant  to  seize  the  machinery;  a  notion  which 
happens  to  catch  popular  fancy  for  a  moment  can  be 
too  readily  translated  into  legislation. 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  * 

[1877] 

The  best  definition  of  a  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment I  know  of  is  one  given  by  Hamilton.  It  is  govern- 
ment in  which  power  is  conferred  by  a  temporary  and 
defeasible  tenure.  Every  state  must  have  and  exert 
authority;  the  state  gathers  together  and  enforces  in 
concrete  form  the  will  of  the  governing  body  as  to 
what  ought  to  be  done.  I  may  leave  aside  here  those 
cases  in  which  the  governing  body  is  an  autocrat  or  an 
oligarchy  or  an  aristocracy,  because  these  forms  of  the 
state  are  dead  or  dying,  and  take  into  account  only  the 
states  in  which  the  people  rule  and  in  which,  therefore, 
the  governing  body  is  so  wide  as  to  embrace  at  least  all 
who  contribute  to  the  active  duties  and  burdens  of  the 
state.  You  observe  that,  even  in  the  widest  democ- 
racies, their  body  is  not  commensurate  with  the  popu- 
lation. The  "people,"  for  political  purposes,  does  not 
include  women,  or  minors,  or  felons,  or  idiots,  even 
though  it  may  include  tramps  and  paupers.  The  word 
"people,"  therefore,  when  we  talk  of  the  people  ruling, 
must  be  understood  to  refer  to  such  persons  as  the  state 

^  William  G.  Sumner,  professor  of  political  economy  in  Yale  College,  delivered 
a  lecture  entitled  "A  Republican  Form  of  Government,"  in  the  Simday  course, 
at  McCormick  hall,  on  yesterday  afternoon.  It  was  an  effort  of  rather  more 
grave  and  timely  interest  than  experience  would  have  led  the  average  lecture 
patron  to  expect.  The  professor  is  still  a  young  man;  his  appearance  does  not 
indicate  a  greater  age  than  thirty-five.  His  clear  and  pleasant  delivery  added 
considerably  to  the  power  of  his  discourse  in  enabling  his  hearers  to  follow  his 
line  of  argument,  without  any  effort  to  concentrate  attention  upon  each  word. 
Chicago  Tribune,  Jan.  1,  1877. 

[223] 


224  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

itself  has  seen  fit  to  endow  with  political  privileges. 
The  true  rule  which  every  state  which  is  to  be  sound  and 
enduring  must  set  for  itself  in  deciding  to  whom  polit- 
ical functions  may  be  entrusted,  is  that  political  rights 
and  political  duties,  political  burdens  and  political 
privileges,  political  power  and  political  responsibility 
must  go  together  and,  as  far  as  may  be,  in  equal  measure. 
The  great  danger  of  all  wide  democracies  comes  from  the 
violation  of  this  rule.  The  chief  doctrine  of  democracy 
is  equality,  that  is,  equality  of  rights  without  respect 
to  duties,  and  its  theory  of  power  is  that  the  majority 
has  the  power  without  responsibility.  If,  then,  it  so  hap- 
pens that  the  rights  and  the  powers  fall  to  a  numerical 
majority,  while  the  duties  and  burdens  are  borne  by 
a  minority,  we  have  an  unstable  political  equilibrium, 
and  dishonesty  must  follow. 

In  a  state,  however,  in  which  the  limits  of  co-ordi- 
nate rights  and  duties  are  observed  in  determining  who 
shall  be  the  people  to  rule,  whether  the  limit  includes 
a  greater  or  smaller  number  of  the  inhabitants,  we  see 
the  modern  state  which  is  capable  of  self-government 
and  realizes  self-government.  Those  who  pay  taxes,  do 
jury  duty,  militia  duty,  police  duty  on  the  sherijff's 
posse,  or  are  otherwise  liable  to  bear  the  burdens  of 
carrying  out  what  the  nation  may  attempt,  are  those 
who  may  claim  of  right  to  have  a  voice  in  determining 
what  it  shall  attempt.  They  therefore  make  the  na- 
tional will,  and  out  of  the  nation  they  form  a  state. 
The  nation  is  an  organism  like  a  man;  the  state  is  like 
the  man  clothed  and  in  armor,  with  tools  and  weapons  in 
his  hand.  When,  therefore,  the  will  of  the  state  is 
formed,  the  state  must  act  with  authority  in  the  line 
of  its  determination  and  must  control  absolutely  the 
powers  at  its  disposal. 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  225 

Right  here,  however,  we  pass  over  from  the  abstract 
to  the  concrete,  from  plain  and  easy  reasoning  on  prin- 
ciples to  practical  contact  with  human  nature.  Power 
and  authority  in  exercise  must  be  in  the  hands  of  indi- 
viduals. When  wielded  by  boards  and  committees  we 
find  that  they  are  divided  and  dispersed,  and  especially 
we  find  that,  when  divided,  they  escape  responsibility. 
Thence  arises  irresponsible  power,  the  worst  abomina- 
tion known  to  the  modern  constitutional  or  jural  state. 
The  most  important  practical  questions  are,  therefore: 
Who  shall  be  endowed  with  the  authority  of  the  state.'* 
How  shall  he  be  designated.'^  How  shall  the  authority 
be  conferred.'*  How  shall  the  organs  of  authority  be 
held  to  responsibility? 

In  constitutional  monarchies  these  questions  are 
answered  by  reducing  the  monarch  to  an  emblem  of 
stability,  unity,  and  permanence,  and  surrounding  him 
with  ministers  appointed  by  him,  but  under  conditions 
which  make  them  organs  of  the  public  will  and  which 
hold  them  to  continual  responsibility  for  all  the  acts  of 
the  state.  The  end  is  accomplished  by  indirect  means 
which,  nevertheless,  secure  the  result  with  satisfactory 
certainty.  In  republics  the  organs  of  authority  are 
designated  by  the  express  selection  of  the  people;  the 
people  directly  signify  whom  they  choose  to  have  as 
their  organs  or  agents;  they  express  their  confidence 
distinctly  either  by  word  of  mouth  or  by  other  conven- 
ient process;  they  show  their  will  as  to  the  policy  of  the 
state  by  choosing  between  advocates  of  diflFerent  policies 
submitted  to  their  selection.  They  do  this  either  by 
the  spoken  word  or  the  lifted  hand,  or  by  the  ballot; 
they  decide  by  majority  vote  or  by  such  other  combina- 
tion as  they  may  themselves  think  wisest;  they  confer 
authority  for  such  time  as  they  may  determine;  and  they 


226  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

prescribe  methods  of  responsibility  such  as  they  think 
adapted  to  the  end.  These  general  prescriptions  and 
limitations  they  lay  down  beforehand  in  the  organic 
law  of  the  state. 

It  follows  that  elections  are  the  central  and  essential 
institution  of  republics,  and  that  the  cardinal  feature  in 
a  republican  form  of  government  is  the  elective  system. 
We  may  therefore  expand  Hamilton's  definition  as  fol- 
lows: A  republican  government  is  a  form  of  self-govern- 
ment in  which  the  authority  of  the  state  is  conferred 
for  limited  terms  upon  officers  designated  by  election. 

I  beg  leave  here  to  emphasize  the  distinction  between 
a  democracy  and  a  republic  because  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  living  in  a  democratic  republic,  almost 
universally  confuse  the  two  elements  of  their  system. 
Each,  however,  must  stand  or  fall  by  itself.  Louis 
Napoleon  gave  the  French  democracy,  under  his  own 
despotism;  France  is  now  called  a  republic  although 
MacMahon  was  never  voted  for  on  a  popular  vote.  If 
the  principle  of  equality  is  what  we  aim  at  we  can  prob- 
ably get  it  —  we  can  all  be  equally  slaves  together. 
If  we  want  majority  rule,  we  can  have  it  —  the  majority 
can  pass  a  plebiscite  conferring  permanent  power  on  a 
despot.  A  republic  is  quite  another  thing.  It  is  a 
form  of  self-government,  and  its  first  aim  is  not  equality 
but  civil  liberty.  It  keeps  the  people  active  in  public 
functions  and  public  duties;  it  requires  their  activity 
at  stated  periods  when  the  power  of  the  state  has  to  be 
re-conferred  on  new  agents.  It  breaks  the  continuity 
of  power  to  guard  against  its  abuse,  and  it  abhors  as 
much  the  irresponsible  power  of  the  many  as  of  the  one. 
It  surrounds  the  individual  with  safeguards  by  its  per- 
manent constitutional  provisions,  and  by  no  means 
leaves  the  individual  or  the  state  a  prey  to  the  deter- 


REPUBLICAN  GO\^RNMENT  9H1 

mination  of  a  numerical  majority.  In  our  system  the 
guarantees  to  liberty  and  the  practical  machinery 
of  self-government  all  come  from  the  constitutional 
republic;  the  dangers  chiefly  from  democracy.  Democ- 
racy teaches  dogmas  of  absolute  and  sweeping  appli- 
cation, while,  in  truth,  there  are  no  absolute  doctrines 
in  politics.  Its  spirit  is  fierce,  intolerant,  and  despo- 
tic. It  frets  and  chafes  at  constitutional  restraints  which 
seem  to  balk  the  people  of  its  will  and  it  threatens 
all  institutions,  precedents,  and  traditions  which,  for 
the  moment,  stand  in  the  way.  When  the  future 
historian  comes  to  critizise  our  time,  he  will  probably 
say  that  it  was  marked  by  a  great  tendency  toward 
democratic  equality.  He  will  perhaps  have  to  mention 
more  than  one  nation  which,  in  chasing  this  chimaera, 
lost  liberty. 

If  now  a  republican  form  of  government  be  such  as  I 
have  described  it,  we  must  observe  first  of  all  that  it 
makes  some  very  important  assumptions.  It  assumes, 
or  takes  for  granted,  a  high  state  of  intelligence,  political 
sense,  and  public  virtue  on  the  part  of  the  nation  which 
employs  this  form  of  self-government.  It  is  impossible 
to  exaggerate  the  necessity  that  these  assumptions  should 
be  calmly  observed  and  soberly  taken  to  heart.  Look 
at  the  facts.  A  people  who  live  under  a  republican  form 
of  government  take  back  into  their  own  hands,  from 
time  to  time,  the  whole  power  of  the  state;  every  elec- 
tion brings  with  it  the  chances  of  a  peaceful  revolution, 
but  one  which  may  involve  a  shock  to  the  state  itself  in  a 
sudden  and  violent  change  of  policy.  The  citizen,  in 
casting  his  vote,  joins  one  phalanx  which  is  coming  into 
collision  with  another  inside  the  state.  The  people 
divide  themselves  to  struggle  for  the  power  of  the  state. 
The  occasion  is  one  which  seems  fitted  to  arouse  the  dead- 


288  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

liest  passions  —  those  which  are  especially  threatening 
to  civil  order. 

The  opinion  of  the  people  is  almost  always  informal 
and  indefinite.  A  small  group,  therefore,  who  know 
what  they  want  and  how  they  propose  to  accomplish 
it,  are  able  by  energetic  action  to  lead  the  whole  body. 
Hence  the  danger  which  arises  for  us,  in  this  country, 
from  incorporated  or  combined  interests;  it  is  and  always 
has  been  our  greatest  danger.  An  organized  interest 
forms  a  compact  body,  with  strong  wishes  and  motives, 
ready  to  spend  money,  time,  and  labor;  it  has  to  deal 
with  a  large  mass,  but  it  is  a  mass  of  people  who  are  ill- 
informed,  unorganized,  and  more  or  less  indifferent. 
There  is  no  wonder  that  victory  remains  with  the  inter- 
ests. Government  by  interests  produces  no  statesmen, 
but  only  attorneys.  Then  again  we  see  the  value  of 
organization  in  a  democratic  republic.  Organization 
gives  interest,  motive,  and  purpose;  hence  the  prelim- 
inaries of  all  elections  consist  in  public  parades,  meetings, 
and  excitement,  which  win  few  voters.  They  rather 
consolidate  party  ranks,  but  they  stimulate  interest; 
they  awaken  the  whole  mass  to  a  participation  which 
will  not  otherwise  be  obtained.  So  far,  then,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  republican  system,  especially  in  a  demo- 
cratic republic,  demands  on  the  part  of  the  citizen  ex- 
traordinary independence,  power  to  resist  false  appeals 
and  fallacies,  sound  and  original  judgment,  far-sighted 
patriotism,  and  patient  reflection. 

We  may,  however,  go  farther  than  this.  The  assump- 
tion which  underlies  the  republican  system  is  that  the 
voter  has  his  mind  made  up,  or  is  capable  of  making  up 
his  mind,  as  to  all  great  questions  of  public  policy;  but 
this  is  plainly  impossible  unless  he  is  well  informed  as  to 
some  great  principles  of  political  science,  knows  some- 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  229 

thing  of  history  and  of  experiments  made  elsewhere, 
and  also  understands  the  great  principles  of  civil  liberty. 
It  is  assumed  that  he  will  act  independently  of  party 
if  party  clashes  with  patriotism.  He  is  assumed  to  be 
looking  at  the  public  good  with  independent  power  to 
discern  it  and  to  act  for  it.  Thus  it  follows,  in  general, 
that  the  citizen  of  a  republic  is  animated  by  patriotism, 
that  he  is  intelligent  enough  to  see  what  patriotism 
demands,  that  he  can  throw  off  prejudice  and  passion  and 
the  mysterious  influence  of  the  public  opinion  of  the 
social  group  to  which  he  belongs,  that  he  has  education 
enough  to  form  an  opinion  on  questions  of  public  policy, 
that  he  has  courage  enough  to  stand  by  his  opinion  in 
the  face  of  contumely  and  misrepresentation  and  local 
or  class  unpopularity,  that  he  will  exercise  his  political 
power  conscientiously  and  faithfully  in  spite  of  social 
and  pecuniary  allurements  against  his  opinion,  and  that 
he  is  intelligent  enough  to  guard  himself  against  fraud. 
Finally  it  is  assumed  that  the  citizen  will  sacrifice  time, 
interest,  and  attention,  in  no  slight  degree,  to  his  public 
duty.  In  short,  it  comes  to  this:  the  franchise  is  a 
prerogative  act;  it  is  the  act  of  a  sovereign;  it  is  per- 
formed without  any  responsibility  whatever  except 
responsibility  to  one's  judgment  and  one's  own  con- 
science. And  furthermore,  although  we  are  fond  of 
boasting  that  every  citizen  is  a  sovereign,  let  us  not  forget 
that  if  every  one  is  a  sovereign  every  one  is  also  a 
subject.  The  citizen  must  know  how  to  obey  before  he 
is  fit  to  command,  and  the  only  man  who  is  fit  to  help 
govern  the  community  is  the  man  who  can  govern 
himself. 

With  these  assumptions  and  requirements  of  repub- 
lican self-government  before  us,  you  are  ready  to  ask: 
"Where  are  there  any  men  who  fulfill  the  requirements?" 


230  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

If  we  apply  the  standards  vigorously  no  men  satisfy 
them;  it  is  only  a  question  of  less  or  more, for  the  assump- 
tions of  republican  self-government  are  superhuman. 
They  demand  more  of  human  nature  than  it  can  yet  give, 
even  in  the  purest  and  most  enlightened  communities 
which  yet  exist.  Hence  republican  self-government 
does  not  produce  anything  like  its  pure,  theoretical 
results.  The  requirements,  however,  must  be  satisfied 
up  to  a  reasonable  limit  or  republican  self-government 
is  impossible.  No  statesman  would  propose  to  apply 
the  republican  system  to  Russia  or  Turkey  to-day; 
our  American  Indians  could  not  be  turned  into  civilized 
states  under  republican  forms;  the  South  American 
republics  present  us  standing  examples  of  states  in 
which  the  conditions  of  republican  government  are  not 
suflSciently  well  fulfilled  for  the  system  to  be  practicable. 
In  our  own  experience  faults  and  imperfections  present 
themselves  which  continually  arouse  our  fears,  and  the 
present  condition  of  some  of  our  southern  states  raises 
the  inquiry,  with  terrible  force  and  pertinency,  whether 
the  assumptions  of  republican  self-government  are  suf- 
ficiently realized  there  for  the  system  to  succeed.  I 
may  add,  in  passing,  that  the  current  discussion  of 
questions  pending  in  those  states  is  marked  by  a  con- 
stant confusion  between  democracy  and  the  republican 
form  of  government. 

I  go  on,  however,  to  discuss  the  theory  of  elections, 
since  this  is  the  essential  feature  of  the  republic.  Recent 
events  have  forced  us  to  re-examine  the  whole  plan  and 
idea  of  elections,  although  the  institution  is  one  in 
familiarity  with  which  we  have  all  grown  up.  When  an 
election  is  held  in  a  town  meeting  by  viva  voce  vote, 
or  by  a  show  of  hands,  the  process  is  simple  and  direct. 
When  the  town  grows  to  such  a  size  that  the  body  of 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  231 

voters  cannot  be  brought  within  the  sound  of  one  voice, 
the  physical  difficulties  become  so  great  that  this  method 
is  no  longer  available.  It  becomes  necessary  to  adopt 
some  system  or  method,  aside  from  those  previously  em- 
ployed, by  which  the  question  can  be  put  and  the  vote 
taken.  We  are  so  familiar  with  the  ballot  as  hardly  to 
appreciate  the  fact  that  it  is  a  distinct  invention  to 
accomplish  a  purpose  and  meet  a  new  necessity.  Right 
here,  however,  lies  the  birth  of  the  political  "machine"; 
for  in  the  next  step  it  is  found  that  organization  and 
previous  concert  are  necessary.  With  this  comes  the 
necessity  for  nomination,  and  it  is  then  found  that  the 
center  of  gravity  of  the  system  lies  rather  in  the  nomina- 
tion than  in  the  election.  The  nomination  takes  the 
form  of  a  previous  and  informal  election;  it  offers  an 
opportunity  for  the  majority  to  exert  controlling  power. 
The  machinery  is  multiplied  at  every  step,  and  with 
every  increase  of  machinery  comes  new  opportunity 
for  manipulation  and  new  demand  for  work.  The  elec- 
tion is  to  be  popular  throughout  the  state,  but,  for  the 
purpose  of  nominating,  the  constituency  is  broken  up 
into  districts  which  send  nominating  delegates.  Thus 
this  subdivision  enables  labor  to  be  concentrated  upon 
small  bodies  in  which  chicanery,  bargaining,  and  im- 
proper influence  can  be  brought  to  bear.  By  ward- 
primaries,  caucuses,  nominating  committees,  pledged 
delegations,  and  so  on,  the  ultimate  power  is  concen- 
trated in  the  hands  of  a  few  who,  by  concerted  action, 
are  able  to  control  the  result.  At  the  same  time  the 
body  of  voters,  finding  political  labor  increased  and 
political  duty  made  more  burdensome,  abandon  this 
entire  department  of  political  effort,  while  the  few  who 
persist  in  it  have  the  continual  consciousness  of  being 
duped.     Upon  the  larger  constituency  of  voters  it  is 


232  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

impossible  to  act,  save  by  public  methods,  by  public 
writing  and  speaking,  which,  although  they  often 
deal  with  base  and  unworthy  motives,  are  neverthe- 
less generally  bound  in  decency  to  handle  proper  argu- 
ments. With  every  increase  of  machinery  come  new 
technicalities,  new  and  arbitrary  notions  of  regularity, 
fresh  means  of  coercing  the  better  judgment  of  dele- 
gates, and  new  opportunities  for  private  and  un- 
worthy influences  to  operate.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say 
that  the  path  of  political  reform  lies  directly  in  the  line 
of  more  independent  and  simple  methods  of  nomination. 
To  return,  however,  to  the  election  proper,  the  theory 
is  that  the  body  of  voters  shall  cast  ballots  with  the 
name  of  one  or  the  other  candidate.  The  votes  are  to 
be  secret  in  the  interest  of  independence;  they  are  to 
be  impersonal  or  anonymous,  no  man's  vote  being 
distinguishable  from  that  of  any  other  man  after  it  is 
cast;  they  are  to  be  equal,  that  is,  every  voter  is  to  cast 
but  one.  The  law  can  provide  guarantees  for  all  these 
limitations.  Can  the  law  go  any  further?  Having 
endowed  certain  persons  with  certain  qualifications  to 
cast  ballots,  under  the  assumption  that  they  are  fit  and 
qualified  to  discharge  the  duty,  can  it  go  any  further? 
I  think  not.  I  do  not  see  how  the  law  can  even  confer 
upon  the  voter  a  power  to  do  his  duty,  if  he  does  not 
possess  that  power.  If  the  people  think  that  a  man 
who  cannot  read  his  ballot  is  not  fit  to  cast  it,  they  can 
by  the  law  of  the  state  exclude  all  persons  who  cannot 
read  from  the  franchise;  but  if  they  do  not  judge  that 
such  a  qualification  is  essential,  while  in  fact  it  is,  they 
cannot  possibly  eliminate  from  the  ballot-boxes  the 
error  or  mischief  which  has  come  into  them  by  the  votes 
of  illiterate  or  incompetent  persons.  They  can  provide 
for  universal   education   and   in   time   they   can   thus 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  233 

eliminate  this  element  of  harm,  but  that  cannot  operate 
for  the  time  being.  Again,  if  the  state  by  its  laws  has 
given  a  share  in  political  power  to  men  who  cannot 
form  an  opinion,  or  can  be  cheated,  or  can  be  frightened 
out  of  an  opinion,  or  can  be  induced  to  use  their  power, 
not  as  they  think  best,  but  as  others  wish,  then  the 
ballot-boxes  will  not  contain  a  true  expression  of  the  will 
of  the  voters,  or  it  will  be  a  corrupt  and  so,  probably, 
a  mischievous  and  ruinous  will;  but  I  do  not  see  how  a 
law  can  possibly  be  framed  to  correct  that  wrong,  and 
make  foolish  men  give  a  wise  judgment  or  corrupt 
men  give  an  honest  judgment  which  shall  redound  to 
the  public  welfare.  There  is  no  alchemy  in  the  ballot- 
box.  It  transmutes  no  base  metal  into  gold.  It  gives 
out  just  what  was  put  in,  and  all  the  impersonality  and 
other  safeguards  may  obscure  but  they  never  alter  this 
fact.  If  the  things  which  the  elective  system  assumes  to 
be  true  are  not  true,  then  the  results  which  are  expected 
will  not  follow;  you  will  not  get  any  more  honor,  honesty, 
intelligence,  wisdom,  or  patriotism  out  of  the  ballot-box 
than  the  body  of  voters  possess,  and  there  may  not  be 
enough  for  self-government.  You  have  to  understand 
that  you  will  certainly  meet  with  fraud,  corruption, 
ignorance,  selfishness,  and  all  the  other  vices  of  human 
nature,  here  as  well  as  elsewhere.  These  vices  will  work 
toward  their  own  ends  and  against  the  ends  of  honest 
citizens;  they  will  have  to  be  fought  against  and  it 
will  take  the  earnest  endeavor  of  honest  citizens  to 
overcome  them.  The  man  who  will  never  give  time  and 
attention  to  public  duty,  who  always  votes  with  his 
party,  who  wants  to  find  a  ballot  already  printed  for 
him,  so  that  he  can  cast  it  in  a  moment  or  two  on  his 
way  to  business  on  election  day,  has  no  right  to  com- 
plain  of  bad  government.     The  greatest  test  of  the 


234  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

republican  form  of  government  is  the  kind  of  men  whom 
it  puts  in  office  as  a  matter  of  fact,  and  in  any  republic 
the  indolence  of  the  public  and  its  disposition  to  trust 
to  machinery  will  steadily  detract  from  so  much  virtue, 
honesty,  wisdom,  and  patriotism  as  there  may  be  in 
the  community. 

Here  I  say  again,  I  do  not  see  how  the  law  can  help 
in  the  matter.  All  the  machinery  of  nominating  con- 
ventions and  primaries  lies  outside  of  the  law.  It  is 
supported  only  by  public  acquiescence  and  it  is  the 
strongest  tyranny  among  us.  The  fact  is  that  every- 
thing connected  with  an  election  is  political,  not  legal; 
that  is  to  say,  it  is  the  domain  of  discretion,  judgment, 
sovereign  action.  It  is  a  participation  in  government; 
it  presupposes  the  power  and  the  will  to  act  rightly  and 
wisely  for  the  ends  of  government.  Where  that  power 
and  will  exist  the  ends  of  government  will  be  served; 
where  they  do  not  exist  those  ends  will  not  be  served,  — 
and  it  is  plain  that  no  one  can  create  them.  Law 
prescribes  only  methods  of  action;  action  itself  comes 
from  human  thought,  feeling,  and  will,  and  government 
is  action.  The  autocrat  of  Russia  governs  Russia; 
suppose  that  he  were  corrupt  or  perverse,  or  ignorant,  or 
otherwise  incompetent,  and  it  must  follow  that  the  pur- 
poses of  government  would  be  lost  in  Russia  —  no  law 
could  give  the  autocrat  of  Russia  a  better  mind  or  heart 
for  his  duties.  Just  so  if  the  sovereign  people  in  any 
state  taken  as  a  whole  have  not  the  mind  or  heart  to 
govern  themselves,  no  law  can  give  them  these.  We 
can  never  surround  an  incompetent  voter  by  any  legal 
restraint,  or  protection,  or  stimulus,  or  guarantee,  which 
shall  enable  him  to  exercise  his  prerogative,  if  he  is  not 
able  to  do  so  as  an  antecedent  matter  of  fact.  His  motives 
lie  in  his  own  mind,  beyond  the  reach  of  all  human  laws 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  235 

and  institutions;  the  conflicting  arguments,  prejudices, 
passions,  fears,  and  hopes  which  move  him  meet  in  an 
arena  where  we  cannot  follow  them.  If  a  body  of 
voters  in  the  commonwealth,  so  large  as  to  control  it, 
are  below  the  grade  of  intelligence  and  independence 
which  are  necessary  to  make  the  election  process  prac- 
ticable, then  you  cannot  apply  the  republican  form  of 
government  there;  it  is  a  hopeless  task  to  take  any 
such  community,  and  by  any  ingenious  device  of  legal 
machinery  try  to  make  the  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment work  there  so  as  to  produce  good  government. 

It  follows,  then,  that  the  law  can  only  mark  out  the 
precautions  necessary  to  be  observed  to  secure  the  true 
expression  of  the  people's  will,  provided  there  be  a 
people  present  who  are  capable  of  forming  a  will  and 
expressing  it  by  this  method.  The  domain  of  these 
precautions  is  in  the  period  anterior  to  the  election  — 
the  law  must  define  beforehand  who  are  people  fit,  on 
general  principles,  to  share  in  the  government  of  the 
state.  It  will  necessarily  define  these  persons  by  classes 
and  will  leave  out  some  who  are  fit  if  examined  rationally 
and  individually,  and  it  will  include  many  others  who 
are  unfit  if  examined  in  the  same  way.  It  must  aim  at 
a  practical  working  system;  it  must  then  provide  by 
registration  or  other  appropriate  means  for  finding  out 
who  among  the  population  come  within  the  defined 
qualifications;  it  must  then  surround  the  actual  act  of 
voting  with  such  safeguards  as  seem  necessary  to  secure 
to  each  voter  a  single  impersonal  vote.  When  the 
votes  are  cast,  however,  and  the  polls  are  closed,  the 
public  will  is  expressed  as  well  as  it  is  possible  to  have 
it  expressed  by  an  election  in  that  community  at  that 
time.  It  might  have  been  possible  to  get  an  expression 
of  the  will  of  that  community  in  some  other  way,  and 


236  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

perhaps  in  some  better  way,  but  that  would  not  have 
been  a  republican  form  of  government.  The  republican 
way  to  find  out  what  the  people  want  is  to  hold  an  elec- 
tion. If  anybody  proposes  an  improved  method  it  may 
be  worth  while  to  consider  it  as  a  matter  of  political 
speculation,  for  every  one  knows  by  ample  observation 
and  experience  that  the  process  of  elections  is  open  to 
serious  imperfections;  it  is  liable  to  many  abuses,  and 
scarcely  ever  does  an  election  take  place  anywhere  in 
which  there  is  not  more  or  less  abuse  practiced.  We 
know  that  it  is  really  an  imperfect  makeshift  and 
practical  expedient  for  accomplishing  the  end  in  view. 
It  only  accomplishes  it  better  than  any  other  plan  yet 
devised,  but  if  any  one  can  propose  a  better  plan  we 
are  ready  to  give  it  attention.  One  thing,  however,  we 
never  can  allow  to  be  consistent  with  a  republican 
form  of  government,  and  that  is,  that  we  should 
hold  an  election  and  then  correct  the  result  as  thus 
reached  by  some  other  result,  reached  in  some  other 
way  by  guess,  estimate,  magic,  census,  clairvoyance,  or 
revelation. 

If  we  pursue  the  republican  system,  we  must  accept 
the  fact  that  we  have  in  the  boxes  an  arithmetical 
product  which  represents  the  will  of  the  people,  ex- 
pressed as  accurately  as  our  precautions  have  been  able 
to  secure.  If  there  was  a  qualified  voter  who  had  no 
opinion,  or  was  afraid  to  express  it,  we  have  not  got 
his  will  there,  but  we  have  got  all  that  the  republican 
system  could  get.  To  secure  the  truth,  now,  as  to  what 
the  will  of  the  people  is,  we  have  before  us  a  simple 
process  of  counting  the  ballots.  The  truth  will  be 
presented  as  an  arithmetical  fact;  it  will  not  be  open  to 
any  doubt  or  guess,  but  will  be  as  positive  as  anything 
on  earth.     Simple  as  this  matter  of  counting  mere  units 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  237 

may  appear,  we  all  know  that  the  greatest  dangers  of 
the  election  system  lie  in  this  very  process.  The  ques- 
tion of  who  shall  count  has  become  quite  as  important 
as  who  shall  vote.  The  whole  republican  plan  or 
system  runs  its  greatest  risk  in  the  manipulation  of  the 
ballots  after  they  are  cast,  and  the  question  of  its  prac- 
ticability comes  down  to  this:  Can  we  secure  simple 
fidelity  to  the  arithmetical  facts  in  the  count  .'^  This 
we  certainly  cannot  do  unless  it  is  understood  that 
absolute  fidelity  to  the  facts  is  the  highest  and  only 
function  of  all  oflBcers  and  persons  who  are  allowed  to 
handle  the  ballots  after  they  are  cast.  Every  man  who 
has  grown  up  in  familiarity  with  the  election  process 
knows  that  when  we  abandon  the  count  of  the  votes  as 
cast  we  go  off  into  arbitrary  manipulations  and  decisions 
for  which  we  have  no  guarantee  whatever,  and  that 
the  political  power  of  the  state,  if  we  allow  any  such 
manipulation,  is  transferred  from  those  who  vote  to 
those  who  manipulate.  If  it  is  charged  that  frauds  have 
been  perpetrated  in  the  election,  that  is  to  say  that  any 
of  the  laws  which  limit  and  define  the  exercise  of  the 
elective  franchise  have  been  broken,  such  charges  raise 
questions  of  fact.  If  the  charges  are  proved  true,  each 
charge  affects  the  result  by  a  given  arithmetical  quantity, 
and  these  effects  can  be  added  or  subtracted  as  the 
case  may  be.  Here  we  are  dealing  with  facts,  not 
opinions;  we  have  solid  ground  under  our  feet.  We 
do  not  work  backward  from  the  results,  we  work  forward 
from  the  evidence;  and  so  long  as  we  use  tribunals  which 
seek  only  facts  and  remain  steadfast  to  the  truth  as 
proved,  the  republican  system  suffers  no  shock.  If, 
however,  legislative  committees  or  any  other  tribu- 
nals decide,  in  cases  of  contested  elections,  not  by  the 
truth  but  by  party  interest,  we  are  face  to  face  with 


288  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

the    greatest    treason    against    republican    institutions 
which  can  possibly  exist. 

I  believe  that  the  American  people  love  republican 
institutions.  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  if  we 
keep  our  records  clean  in  regard  to  what  republican 
institutions  are,  so  that  we  recognize  and  repel  the  first 
inroads  upon  them,  we  can  adapt  our  institutions  to 
any  exigencies  that  may  arise.  I  think  that  the  country 
has,  to  a  certain  extent,  outgrown  some  of  its  institu- 
tions in  their  present  form.  I  believe  it  has  given  its 
faith  to  some  false  and  pernicious  doctrines  about  equality 
and  the  rights  of  man.  I  believe  that  the  astonishing 
social  and  economic  developments  of  the  last  few  years, 
together  with  some  of  the  heavy  problems  which  are 
legacies  of  the  war,  have  thrown  upon  us  difficulties 
whose  magnitude  we  hardly  yet  appreciate  and  which 
we  cannot  cope  with  unless  we  set  to  work  at  them  with 
greater  energy  and  sobriety  than  we  have  yet  employed. 
Some  of  these  things  involve  or  threaten  the  republic 
in  its  essence.  We  can  deal  with  them  all  under  its 
forms  and  methods  if  we  have  the  political  sense  which 
the  system  requires.  Here,  however,  lies  the  difficulty. 
Political  institutions  do  not  admit  of  sharp  definition 
or  rigid  application;  they  need  broad  comprehension, 
gentle  and  conciliatory  application;  they  require  the 
highest  statesmanship  in  public  men.  Self-government 
could  not  be  established  by  all  the  political  machinery 
which  the  wit  of  man  could  invent;  on  the  contrary, 
the  more  machinery  we  have  the  greater  is  the  danger 
to  self-government.  Civil  liberty  could  not  be  defined 
by  constitutions  and  treatises  which  might  fill  libraries; 
civil  liberty  cannot  even  be  guaranteed  by  constitutions 
—  I  doubt  if  it  can  be  stated  in  propositions  at  all.  Yet 
civil  liberty  is  the  great  end  for  which  modern  states 


REPUBLICAN  GOVERNMENT  239 

exist.  It  is  the  careful  adjustment  by  which  the  rights 
of  individuals  and  the  state  are  reconciled  with  one 
another  to  allow  the  greatest  possible  development  of 
all  and  of  each  in  harmony  and  peace.  It  is  the  triumph 
of  the  effort  to  substitute  right  for  might,  and  the 
repression  of  law  for  the  wild  struggles  of  barbarism. 
Civil  liberty,  as  now  known,  is  not  a  logical  or  rational 
deduction  at  all;  it  is  the  result  of  centuries  of  experience 
which  have  cost  the  human  race  an  untold  expenditure 
of  blood  and  labor.  As  the  result  we  have  a  series  of 
institutions,  traditions,  and  positive  restraints  upon  the 
governing  power.  These  things,  however,  would  not 
in  themselves  suffice.  We  have  also  large  communities 
which  have  inherited  the  love  of  civil  liberty  and  the 
experience  of  it — communities  which  have  imperceptibly 
imbibed  the  conception  of  civil  liberty  from  family  life 
and  from  the  whole  social  and  political  life  of  the  nation. 
Civil  liberty  has  thus  become  a  popular  instinct.  Let 
us  guard  well  these  prejudices  and  these  instincts,  for 
we  may  be  well  assured  that  in  them  lies  the  only  real 
guarantee  of  civil  liberty.  Whenever  they  become  so 
blunted  that  an  infringement  of  one  of  the  old  traditions 
of  civil  liberty  is  viewed  with  neglect  and  indifference 
then  we  must  take  the  alarm  for  civil  liberty.  It  seems 
to  me  a  physical  impossibility  that  we  should  have  a 
Caesar  here  until  after  we  have  run  through  a  long 
course  of  degeneration.  That  is  not  our  danger,  and 
while  we  look  for  it  in  that  direction  we  overlook  it  on 
the  side  from  which  it  may  come.  There  are  number- 
less ways  beside  the  usurpation  of  a  dictator  in  which 
civil  liberty  may  be  lost;  there  are  numberless  forms  of 
degeneration  for  a  constitutional  republic  besides  mon- 
archy and  despotism.  We  can  keep  the  names  and 
forms   of  republican   self-government  long   after  their 


240  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

power  to  secure  civil  liberty  is  lost.  The  degeneration 
may  go  on  so  slowly  that  only  after  a  generation  or  two 
will  the  people  realize  that  the  old  tradition  is  lost  and 
that  the  fresh,  spontaneous  power  of  the  people,  which 
we  call  political  sense,  is  dead.  Such  is  the  danger  which 
continually  menaces  the  republic,  and  the  only  safe- 
guard against  it  is  the  jealous  instinct  of  the  people, 
which  is  quick  to  take  the  alarm  and  which  will  not,  at 
any  time  or  under  any  excuse,  allow  even  a  slight  or 
temporary  infringement  upon  civil  liberty.  Such  in- 
fringements when  made  are  always  made  under  specious 
pretexts.  Kings  who  set  aside  civil  liberty  always  do  it 
for  "higher  reasons  of  state";  in  a  republic  likewise 
you  will  find,  especially  at  great  public  crises,  that  men 
and  parties  are  promptly  ready  to  take  the  same  course 
and  assume  the  role  of  "saviors  of  society,"  for  the  sake 
of  something  which  they  easily  persuade  themselves  to 
be  a  transcendent  public  interest.  The  constitutional 
republic,  however,  does  not  call  upon  men  to  play  the 
hero;  it  only  calls  upon  them  to  do  their  duty  under 
the  laws  and  the  constitution,  in  any  position  in  which 
they  may  be  placed,  and  no  more. 


DEMOCRACY  AND  RESPONSIBLE 
GOVERNMENT 


DEMOCRACY    AND    RESPONSIBLE 
GOVERNMENT^ 

[1877] 

The  notion  seems  to  be  widely  and  more  or  less 
definitely  held  that  in  civil  government  men  may 
invent  any  institutions  they  please,  unchecked  by  any 
such  restraints  as  govern  mechanical  inventions.  It 
seems  to  be  believed,  also,  that  the  aim  of  political  science 
is  to  invent  some  scheme  of  government  which,  when 
once  found,  will  put  an  end  to  all  troubles  in  the  art 
of  government  and,  being  universally  introduced,  will 
make  all  men  happy  forever  after.  The  notion  seems 
to  be  more  widely  held  that  it  is  possible  for  us  to  make 
changes  in  political  institutions,  so  as  to  hold  fast  all 
the  advantages  we  have  gained,  and  by  successive 
amendments  to  advance  toward  perfection.  It  seems  to 
be  believed,  furthermore,  that  any  man  may  easily  in- 
vent new  political  institutions  or  devise  improvements 
on  old  ones,  without  any  particular  trouble. 

I  must  preface  what  I  have  now  to  say  about  Democ- 
racy and  Responsible  Government  by  denying  the 
truth  of  every  one  of  these  notions,  because  they  will  be 
apt,  whenever  they  exist,  to  prevent  a  correct  under- 
standing of  what  I  have  to  say. 

Errors  of  Political  Judgment.  It  is  in  Utopias 
only  that  men  have  ever  invented  new  political  in- 
stitutions. They  have  never  put  their  Utopian  insti- 
tutions to  the  experiment  for  the  simple  reason  that 
every  utopia  begins  with  the  postulate  that  the  world 
must  be  made   over  again,  from  what  it  is  into  that 

*  From  the  Providence  Evening  Press,  June  21, 1877. 
I  2^3  ] 


244  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

kind  of  a  world  which  the  utopia  needs  in  order  to 
be  practicable.  The  a  priori  philosophers,  who  began 
with  a  state  of  nature,  and  assumed  such  a  state  and 
such  men  in  it  as  suited  their  notions,  got  so  far  as  to 
try,  in  the  French  Revolution,  for  instance,  to  put  some 
of  their  plans  into  practice.  Those  plans  failed,  how- 
ever, and  their  failure  involved  disaster.  Many  people 
believe  that  American  institutions  were  invented  by 
the  fathers,  and  I  presume  that  this  is  one  reason  why 
the  belief  is  so  strong  that  men  can  invent  institutions 
of  civil  government.  The  truth  is  that  the  fathers 
devised  some  expedients  in  governmental  machinery, 
all  of  which  have  failed  of  the  objects  they  aimed  at 
or  have  been  distorted  to  others;  but  American  insti- 
tutions are  striking  illustrations  of  the  doctrine  that 
political  institutions  which  endure  and  thrive  always 
are  the  product  of  development  and  growth,  that  they 
grow  out  of  the  national  character  and  the  national 
circumstances,  and  that  the  efforts  of  men  to  control 
or  limit  them  are  restricted  within  very  narrow  limits 
and  even  at  that  require  an  immense  exertion  of  force 
for  the  results  attained.  This  fact  with  regard  to  Ameri- 
can institutions  will  demand  our  attention  further  on. 

Errors  op  Political  Philosophy.  We  must  also 
abandon  all  hopes  of  finding  an  absolutely  "best" 
system  of  government  or  one  which  will  alter  any  of  the 
conditions  of  human  life,  except  by  undoing  the  mischief 
which  mistaken  effort  may  have  done.  If  we  study 
human  nature  and  human  history,  we  find  that  civil 
institutions  are  only  "better"  and  "best"  relatively  to 
the  people  for  whom  they  exist,  and  that  they  can  be 
so  called  only  as  they  are  more  closely  adjusted  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  nation  in  question.  The  a  priori 
philosophers  have  led  men  astray  by  their  assumptions 


RESPONSIBLE   GOVERNMENT  245 

and  speculations,  teaching  them  to  look  into  the  clouds 
for  dreams  and  impossibilities  instead  of  studying  the 
world  and  life  as  they  are,  so  as  to  learn  how  to  make 
the  best  of  them.  We  shall  discover  or  invent  no  sys- 
tem of  government  which  we  can  carry  from  nation  to 
nation,  counting  upon  uniform  action  and  results  every- 
where, as  we  do,  for  instance,  with  a  steam  engine  or 
a  telescope. 

Furthermore,  experience  shows  that  the  hope  of  steady 
improvement  by  change  is  a  delusion.  All  human  ar- 
rangements involve  their  measure  of  evil;  we  are  for- 
ever striking  balances  of  advantage  and  disadvantage  in 
our  social  and  political  arrangements.  If  by  a  change 
we  gain  more  advantage  on  one  side,  we  lose  some  on 
another;  if  we  get  rid  of  one  evil  we  incur  another. 
The  true  gains  are  won  by  slow  and  diflBcult  steps; 
they  consist  only  in  better  adjustments  of  man  to  his 
circumstances.  They  are  never  permanent  because 
changes  in  men  and  in  their  circumstances  are  con- 
tinually taking  place;  the  adjustments  must  be  con- 
tinually re-established  and  the  task  is  continually 
renewed. 

Great  Principles  Falsely  So  Called.  In  this 
view  the  worst  vice  in  political  discussions  is  that  dog- 
matism which  takes  its  stand  on  "great  principles"  or 
assumptions,  instead  of  standing  on  an  exact  examination 
of  things  as  they  are  and  human  nature  as  it  is.  The 
commonest  form  of  this  error  is  that  which  arises  from 
discontent  with  things  as  they  are.  An  ideal  is  formed 
of  some  "higher"  or  "better"  state  of  things  than  now 
exists,  and  almost  unconsciously  the  ideal  is  assumed  as 
already  existing  and  made  the  basis  of  speculations  which 
have  no  root.  At  other  times  a  doctrine  which  is  true 
in  a  measure,  as  true  as  its  author  intended  it,  is  con- 


246  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

verted  into  a  popular  dogma  and  made  the  subject  of 
mischievous  inferences.  Thus  I  have  heard  a  man  who 
did  not  know  what  a  syllogism  was,  reason  that  a  city 
ought  to  give  work  to  unemployed  laborers,  as  follows: 
"Isn't  government  for  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest 
number?  We  are  the  greatest  number,  and  therefore, 
it  is  for  us."  Other  examples  of  dogmatism  based  on 
"great  principles"  which  are  either  fallacies  or  mis- 
chievous half-truths  or  empty  phrases  which  people 
want  to  force  to  vigorous  realization,  are  common  in 
French  history  and  in  our  own.  I  shall  have  to  refer 
to  our  experience  of  them  again.  I  wish  to  say,  at  this 
point,  only  that  the  social  sciences  are,  as  yet,  the 
stronghold  of  all  this  pernicious  dogmatism;  and  nowhere 
does  it  do  more  harm  than  in  politics.  The  whole 
method  of  abstract  speculation  on  political  topics  is 
vicious.  It  is  popular  because  it  is  easy;  it  is  easier 
to  imagine  a  new  world  than  to  learn  to  know  this  one; 
it  is  easier  to  embark  on  speculations  based  on  a  few 
broad  assumptions  than  it  is  to  study  the  history  of 
states  and  institutions;  it  is  easier  to  catch  up  a  popular 
dogma  than  it  is  to  analyze  it  to  see  whether  it  is  true 
or  not.  All  this  leads  to  confusion,  to  the  admission 
of  phrases  and  platitudes,  to  much  disputing  but  little 
gain  in  the  prosperity  of  nations. 

Fundamental  Definitions.  The  science  of  politics 
consists  in  such  study  of  history  as  shall  discern  the 
nature  and  laws  of  civil  society  and  the  general  prin- 
ciples for  obtaining  its  ends.  The  art  of  politics  consists 
in  finding  means  for  the  ends  of  civil  society  as  the 
needs  arise,  under  the  general  rules  which  the  science 
has  derived  from  the  study  of  a  long  and  wide  experience; 
it  is  practical  business  in  which  special  training,  tact, 
skill,  sagacity,  and  acumen  are  valuable,  just  as  they 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  247 

are  in  the  other  practical  affairs  of  life.  Poetry,  ro- 
mance, tradition,  feeling,  and  emotion  have  much 
weight  in  national  life  and  in  the  development  of 
political  institutions,  but  pathos,  rodomontade,  vituper- 
ative declamation,  and  glittering  generalities  are  only 
vicious. 

It  must  also  be  observed  that  the  only  thing  which 
we  can  ever  accomplish  by  labor  and  forethought  in 
the  way  of  altering  institutions  to  fit  new  needs  is  tc 
follow  the  course  of  events,  perceive  the  natural  ten- 
dencies of  the  institutions  themselves,  and  alter  the 
arbitrary  and  artificial  portions  of  our  institutions  at 
the  proper  moment  and  in  the  proper  way  to  meet  the 
requirement.  Even  this  comparatively  modest  task 
requires  the  very  highest  statesmanship;  to  invent  a 
new  adjustment  of  civil  institutions  is  not  easier  than 
to  invent  a  new  machine,  but  far  more  diflScult. 

Radicalism  Repudiated.  I  do  not,  therefore,  now 
propose  anything  so  ambitious  as  an  invention  for  the 
readjustment  of  our  political  institutions;  what  I  do 
propose  may  be  set  forth  by  pursuing  one  step  further 
the  analogy  of  mechanical  inventions.  It  often  happens 
that  some  art  is  checked  in  its  development  by  the 
want  of  a  machine  to  perform  one  simple,  specific  task. 
Before  the  steam-hammer  was  invented,  it  was  possible 
to  build  steamships  of  any  size,  except  for  the  difliculty 
that  a  mass  of  iron  could  not  be  forged  for  the  shaft  of 
an  engine  exceeding  a  certain  size.  The  exact  need 
was  thus  specified  and  the  invention  speedily  followed. 
I  desire  to  define  and  specify  where  we  stand  with  our 
political  institutions,  and  what  we  need  in  order  that 
we  may  gain  some  advantage  of  position  for  the  ultimate 
solution  of  the  problem;  and  I  desire  to  remember  all 
the  time  that  the  duty  of  the  good  citizen  is  to  support 


«48  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

the  existing  institutions  of  his  country  as  long  as  he  can 
and  to  try  to  make  them  succeed,  and  that  it  is  not 
his  duty  to  find  fault  with  them  and  to  try  to  see  what 
changes  he  can  make  in  them. 

The  Political  Growth  of  America.  There  is  one 
observation  with  regard  to  the  position  of  this  country 
as  compared  with  older  countries  which  is  not  often 
made  but  which  seems  to  me  very  important  for  our 
present  purpose.  As  a  young  nation,  springing  up  on 
a  new  continent,  our  history  consists  of  a  growth  from 
the  most  rudimentary  form  of  society  to  the  stature 
of  a  great  civilized  nation.  The  first  settlers  brought 
here  the  traditions  of  English  social  and  political  order 
as  they  existed  at  the  time  of  the  migration;  these 
traditions  were  the  most  favorable  to  liberty  then 
existing.  The  colonists  were  able  to  leave  what  they 
did  not  want,  and  to  bring  what  suited  their  purpose; 
we  have  had  no  old  abuses  to  contend  against,  no  vested 
interests  to  destroy,  no  old  privileges  to  break  down 
in  the  interest  of  liberty.  In  the  old  countries  whose 
history  we  study  the  struggle  has  been  away  from 
excessive  regulation  towards  liberty;  whereas  we  began 
with  the  extreme  of  liberty  and  have  gone  on  towards 
more  and  more  regulation,  as  the  growth  of  population, 
and  the  development  of  society  have  made  it  necessary. 
The  two  courses  of  development  are,  therefore,  opposite 
to  one  another,  and  the  fears  and  hopes,  warnings  and 
encouragements  derived  from  European  history,  have 
often  found  an  inverted  application  here.  It  is  especially 
in  regard  to  the  development  of  institutions  that  this 
observation  is  important:  a  new  country  moving  for- 
ward to  greater  complexity  of  social  and  civil  organi- 
zation will  be  forced  to  modify  its  institutions  in  the 
way  of  development,  because  they  will  be  found  inade- 


RESPONSIBLE   GOVERNMENT  249 

quate,  while  an  old  country  has  to  modify  its  institu- 
tions in  the  way  of  simplification  and  flexibility,  because 
they  tend  to  become  stiff  and  restrictive.  The  two 
situations  are  distinct  and  require  each  its  appropriate 
methods. 

The  Earliest  State  of  Our  Nation.  The  first 
colonists  of  the  United  States  found  themselves  on  a 
substantial  equality  as  regards  property,  education,  and 
social  antecedents.  There  was  no  opportunity  for  any 
to  secure  the  position  of  landlords;  there  was  no  need 
for  any  to  be  peasant  laborers.  The  inherited  tradi- 
tions of  liberty  found  easy  application  here,  for  the  need 
for  political  regulation  was  as  slight  as  it  ever  can  be 
in  a  civilized  community.  All  were  alike  proprietary 
farmers.  The  republican  method  of  electing  public 
officers  offered  itself  as  the  only  suitable  method  of  ob- 
taining such  officers.  There  were  few  old  traditions, 
or  venerable  prejudices,  or  vested  interests,  or  inherited 
abuses,  to  block  the  way  to  the  freest  possible  organiza- 
tion of  society.  The  political  institutions  of  the  colonies 
were  therefore  democratic  in  their  character,  republican 
in  their  form.  They  could  not  be  anything  else;  there 
was  no  place  for  any  monarchical  institutions  here; 
an  aristocracy  of  title  and  descent  would  have  been  ab- 
surd under  the  circumstances.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  intrinsic  impossibility  of  the  thing,  the  English  gov- 
ernment would  have  created  a  colonial  aristocracy  as 
a  bond  to  hold  the  colonies  to  their  allegiance.  The 
colonists  made  no  express  choice  of  democratic  institu- 
tions; they  could  not,  in  their  circumstances,  adopt 
any  other.  All  were  equal  before  the  law,  according  to 
English  law;  all  men  were  as  nearly  equal  in  their  cir- 
cumstances as  men  ever  can  be  in  this  world,  unless  they 
belonged  to  the  inferior  races,  Indians  or  negroes.     Hence 


250  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

the  great  doctrine  of  political  equality,  to  men  in  whose 
circumstances  and  experience  it  was  true,  seemed  to  be 
true  universally.  The  struggle  for  existence  took  on 
none  of  its  dark  colors  in  a  country  where  land  was 
so  plentiful  and  population  so  scanty  that  there  was 
no  social  friction,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  higher 
developments  which  come  from  intense  social  compe- 
tition were  wanting.  The  division  of  labor  was  very 
imperfect;  the  professions  were  only  partially  differen- 
tiated. The  external  dangers  which  generally  promote 
the  integration  of  states  were  here  slight,  although  we 
find  that  wars  with  Indians  and  wars  with  the  French 
had  the  same  effect  here  which  foreign  wars  have 
had  elsewhere.  When  the  danger  passed,  disintegration 
again  prevailed. 

Slavery.  The  doctrine  of  equality  for  white  men  was 
held  without  any  apparent  feeling  of  inconsistency  with 
the  notion  that  colored  men  were  not  the  equals  of 
whites.  It  has  often  been  thought  that  these  two  no- 
tions involved  an  inconsistency  so  glaring  that  it  must 
have  been  present  to  the  minds  of  all  men,  and  that  the 
Southern  slave  owners  were  strangely  classed  as  the 
strongest  democrats  of  all.  There  does  not  seem  to 
have  been  anywhere  any  feeling  of  inconsistency  in  the 
matter  in  the  colonial  times.  If  we  look  at  the  feelings 
now  entertained  by  a  great  number  amongst  us  in  regard 
to  Indians  and  Chinese  I  think  that  this  inconsistency 
can  be  more  easily  understood.  Indeed  I  am  not  sure 
but  that  a  still  closer  explanation  of  it  is  furnished  by 
the  laboring  man  who  declaimed  against  the  emanci- 
pation of  the  negroes,  asking  angrily,  "Who  then  will 
be  under  us?" 

The  Union  and  the  Constitution.  The  union  of 
the  colonies  was  also  the  product  of  social  forces  which 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  251 

made  it  necessary.  Whenever  the  wars  with  the  French 
or  Indians  involved  great  danger  and  large  effort,  united 
action  became  necessary,  and  proposals  for  a  permanent 
union  were  made;  and  the  exigency  of  the  struggle  with 
the  mother-country  finally  brought  about  such  a  union, 
under  diflBculties  and  in  spite  of  great  reluctance.  The 
union  was  formed  on  the  model  of  the  United  Nether- 
lands and  was  not  a  completely  new  device.  It  took 
experience  of  the  faults  of  the  confederation  to  force  the 
new  constitution  of  1787,  not  because  anybody  had 
proved  that  it  would  be  speculatively  better  but  be- 
cause the  old  system  had  become  intolerable.  The 
constitution  of  the  United  States  is  as  much  an  historical 
growth  as  any  political  institution  in  existence.  Its 
framers  did  not  invent  it  at  all;  they  took  what  lay 
before  them.  The  Union  was  a  fact  and  a  necessity  — 
no  one  dared  to  break  it  up  and  leave  the  thirteen  col- 
onies to  get  on,  as  best  they  could,  as  independent 
members  of  the  family  of  nations.  The  republican 
character  of  the  government  was  given  in  the  habits 
and  the  existing  institutions  of  the  colonies.  The  new 
union  was  chiefly  distinguished  from  the  old  by  greater 
integration  of  the  central  power.  The  need  of  power 
to  levy  taxes  had  been  distinctly  felt;  the  need  of  a 
federal  supreme  court  had  been  experienced  and  ex- 
perience had  even  indicated  the  character  which  the 
tribunal  must  have.  The  federal  executive  offered 
greater  difficulty,  and  for  this  the  constitution-makers 
went  back  to  the  English  constitution  as  they  under- 
stood it,  that  is,  to  the  conception  of  the  English  Whigs 
of  the  first  half  of  the  last  century.  The  student  of 
the  English  constitution  finds  the  germs  of  the  peculiar 
features  of  the  present  English  constitution  in  the  reigns 
of  William  and  Anne,  but  it  is  not  strange  that  American 


252  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

statesmen  of  the  time  of  George  III  did  not  recognize 
the  force  and  tendency  of  English  constitutional  arrange- 
ments which  never  reached  their  full  operation  until 
the  nineteenth  century. 

Good  and  Bad  Law-Making.  So  far,  therefore,  our 
constitution-makers  were  guided  by  history  and  expe- 
rience. Their  contests,  as  is  well  known,  took  place 
over  the  adjustment  of  local  interests  and  not  over 
theories  of  government  —  there  is  no  ground  in  history 
for  the  notion  that  they  evolved  out  of  their  own  wisdom 
the  form  of  government  under  which  we  live.  They 
really  showed  their  wisdom  by  throwing  aside  all  polit- 
ical dogmatism  and  making  a  plain,  practical  plan  for 
attaining  the  necessary  ends  of  civil  government  for 
the  nation.  They  put  in  no  definitions,  no  dogmas, 
no  phrases,  no  generalities.  We  have  not  indeed  been 
free  from  political  dogmatism;  we  have  had  a  great  deal 
of  it,  but  its  source  is  not  in  the  constitution.  It  is 
in  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  where  broad  prop- 
ositions containing  no  meaning,  or  any  meaning  each 
man  chooses,  stand  in  singular  incongruity  by  the  side 
of  plain  and  business-like  specifications  of  the  grounds 
for  declaring  independence.  It  is  not  without  reason 
that  some  have  talked  about  bringing  the  constitution 
into  accord  with  the  Declaration  of  Independence; 
they  did  not  find  in  the  former  document  the  dogmatic 
assumptions  which  they  wanted.  They  had  to  seek 
them  in  the  latter  document,  where  they  are  as  much 
to  the  purpose  as  the  resolutions  of  a  reform  club  about 
things  in  general  would  be,  if  appended  to  a  statute. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  latest  case  of  political  dog- 
matism. The  mismanagement  of  cities  has  become 
intolerable  and  it  has  been  proposed  in  order  to  check 
the  abuse  to  give  property  especial  power  in  municipal 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  25S 

affairs.  This  is  opposed  on  the  ground  that  it  would  limit 
the  suffrage.  The  dogmatic  assumption  here  is  that  the 
privilege  of  all  men  to  vote  on  all  subjects  is  of  sacred 
and  inviolable  and  absolute  right,  which  the  state  may 
not  infringe  upon  on  any  grounds  of  expediency.  In 
truth  there  are  no  such  absolute  rights  at  all  in  the  in- 
dividual. The  community  has  a  right  to  good  govern- 
ment; this  is  the  fixed  and  paramount  consideration  in 
politics  and  the  question  as  to  who  may  share,  or  how,  in 
the  public  affairs,  depends  on  what  arrangement  will  best 
conduce  to  good  government.  A  wide  suffrage  is  based 
on  the  experience  that  it  conduces  more  to  good  govern- 
ment than  a  narrow  one.  Those  who  hold  any  other 
doctrine  must  justify,  as  they  can,  the  exclusion  of 
women,  children,  idiots,  felons,  paupers,  and  those  who 
cannot  read,  those  who  pay  no  poll-tax,  or  other  exclu- 
sions which  the  laws  of  various  states  provide  for. 

Anticipatory  Laws.  The  proposition  I  have  laid 
down,  that  institutions  and  political  arrangements 
cannot  be  arbitrarily  created,  finds  its  proof  also  in  the 
attempt  which  the  constitution-makers  did  make  to 
foresee  political  exigencies  and  to  provide  for  them  by 
special  devices.  Most  of  these  were  devices  against  de- 
mocracy, and  every  one  of  them  has  been  brought  to 
naught.  The  fathers  never  intended  to  have  the  Presi- 
dent elected  by  a  grand  democratic  plebiscitey  for  they 
were  under  impressions  which  were  hostile  to  democracy, 
would  have  held  any  such  project  dangerous,  if  practi- 
cable, and  would  not  have  judged  it  likely  to  produce  a 
good  selection.  They  adopted  the  device  of  the  electoral 
college  to  prevent  this.  At  the  fourth  election,  the  first 
one  at  which  there  was  a  real  contest,  their  plan  broke 
down.  It  was  amended  in  detail,  but  in  its  subsequent 
working   a   mass   of   tradition   and   unwritten  law   hay 


254  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

grown  up  upon  it  which  has  made  it  accomplish,  only 
under  state  limitations,  just  what  they  meant  to  pre- 
vent. Thus  impossible  is  it  for  law-makers  to  foresee 
the  operation  of  arbitrary  constitutional  provisions,  or 
to  set  any  fetters  to  the  development  of  the  natural 
forces  which  lie  in  the  genius  or  the  circumstances  of 
the  nation. 

In  regard  to  patronage,  again,  the  constitution-makers 
held  Utopian  ideas  in  regard  to  the  zeal  and  purity  in 
the  public  service  which  might  be  expected  in  the  re- 
public. They  had  inherited  the  traditional  European 
dread  of  the  executive,  a  dread  which  never  had  any 
true  foundation  here,  and  so  they  gave  the  Senate  power 
to  confirm  the  appointments  of  the  President,  an  arrange- 
ment which  has  been  widely  copied  in  our  state  consti- 
tutions and  city  charters.  The  idea  was  to  restrain 
executive  patronage,  but  the  arrangement  has  been  the 
source  of  great  abuses  of  patronage,  and  has  developed 
special  abuses  of  its  own,  not  known  in  foreign  experi- 
ence. Technical  usages  and  unwritten  laws  here  also 
have  defeated  the  original  intention. 

On  the  other  hand,  many  of  the  provisions  which  were 
fought  for  with  the  greatest  zeal,  such  as  the  provision 
about  direct  taxes,  have  proved  powerless  against 
advancing  opinion.  In  other  respects  arrangements 
which  some  of  the  fathers  thought  essential  to  the  pros- 
perity of  the  union,  such  as  securing  the  adherence  of 
the  wealthy  or  attracting  the  ambitious  by  titles  and 
orders,  have  proved  of  no  importance.  Still  again, 
they  failed  to  provide  for  the  growth  of  the  confedera- 
tion in  territory  by  purchase  or  treaty,  so  that  the  old 
Federalists  were  always  able  to  denounce  the  admission 
of  new  frontier  states  as  a  violation  of  the  original  in- 
tention.    Thus  it  has  been  proved,  on  all  sides,  that  the 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  255 

organic  law  must  move  with  the  life  of  the  nation. 
Either  words  change  their  contents,  or  interpretations 
vary,  or  roundabout  methods  are  invented  —  in  one 
way  or  another  the  nation  fits  its  institutions  in  spite 
of  all  enactments  or  any  pedantic  rules  of  interpreta- 
tion to  its  faiths,  its  tastes,  and  its  needs. 

A  Senator,  in  a  recent  publication,  has  expressed 
the  opinion  that  the  constitution-makers,  in  these  anti- 
democratic devices,  failed  to  trust  the  people,  and  that 
this  is  why  their  devices  failed;  he  also  says  that  it  is 
not  the  people  who  have  wanted  changes,  but  the  phi- 
losophers. There  seems  to  me  to  be  here  a  great  deal 
of  that  confusion  which  has  been  so  mischievous  in  our 
own  political  discussions.  The  philosophers  have  phi- 
losophized after  their  manner  and  the  world  has  paid 
just  as  much  heed  to  them  as  it  thought  they  deserved. 
Many  of  their  suggestions  have  fallen  dead  and  harm- 
less, others  have  stimulated  thought,  and  some  have  in- 
fluenced the  insensible  growth  of  institutions  and  the 
accomplishment  of  great  reforms.  As  for  trusting  the 
people,  if  we  have  any  infallible  oracle,  whether  it  be 
the  people,  or  the  Pope,  or  a  priest  of  Apollo,  or  Brigham 
Young,  we  make  a  fatal  mistake  not  to  trust  it.  In  fact 
we  have  no  oracle  to  solve  our  problems  for  us.  The 
people  is  not  such  an  oracle,  because  it  has  no  organ 
even  if  it  had  the  knowledge;  the  people  is  ourselves  — 
you  and  I.  The  very  root  of  the  trouble  is  that  I  do  not 
trust  myself  to  solve  the  hard  questions.  When  any 
number  of  us  are  added  together,  our  folly  and  ignorance 
are  added  as  well  as  our  wisdom  and  knowledge;  the 
people  is  no  mysterious  entity  and  numbers  have  no 
force  where  ideas  are  concerned.  We  are  thrown  back 
upon  the  necessity  of  bringing  reason  and  judgment  to 
bear  upon  those  tasks  and  problems  which  are  not  phys- 


256  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

ical  in  their  nature.  This,  however,  is  just  where  we 
started,  and  when  we  have  asked  the  people  for  an 
answer,  we  have  only  asked  ourselves,  it  may  be  in  a 
very  loud  voice.  The  questions  of  polities  are  always 
questions  as  to  what  we  shall  do.  It  is  we,  the  people, 
who  must  decide,  we  who  must  act,  we  who  must  bear 
the  consequences;  to  talk  about  trusting  ourselves, 
therefore,  is  to  use  a  meaningless  phrase.  The  con- 
stitution-makers did  not  distrust  the  people,  and  did  not 
intend  to  make  anything  but  a  system  of  popular  self- 
government;  they  did  not  believe  in  democracy,  but 
they  meant  to  make  a  republic  with  a  wide  basis  and 
constitutional  limitations.  The  existing  circumstances 
of  the  country  produced  democracy  in  spite  of  them 
and  their  limitations  have  all  been  swept  away  or  made 
of  no  effect. 

Furthermore,  the  scores  of  amendments  to  the  Con- 
stitution which  have  been  proposed  by  members  of 
Congress  have  not  been  the  work  of  the  philosophers; 
it  has  been  the  people  who  have  forced  those  changes 
which  I  have  described,  on  the  spirit  and  actual  operation 
of  the  Constitution. 

Pure  Democracy.  The  changes  which  time  has 
brought  about  in  the  working  of  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  have  altered  its  character.  Our  govern- 
ment has  been  called  a  representative  democracy  and, 
although  the  term  is  open  to  criticism,  it  is  substantially 
a  correct  description.  De  Tocqueville,  who  studied 
our  institutions  during  Jackson's  administration,  saw 
the  American  government  in  the  full  flower  of  that  stage 
of  its  development,  and  he  sought  the  germ  of  American 
institutions,  rightly  enough,  in  the  New  England  town- 
ship. A  town  democracy  has  its  peculiar  features  which 
well  repay  study,  and  it  is  easy  to  discern  in  our  system 


RESPONSIBLE   GOVERNMENT  257 

the  theories  and  practices  which  belong  to  the  town 
democracy  but  have  been  transferred  to  the  national 
system. 

There  is  in  the  town  democracy  no  government, 
properly  speaking;  there  are  no  institutions,  or  the 
institutions  are  of  a  very  rudimentary  character.  The 
officers  are  only  administrative  functionaries;  their 
powers  are  closely  defined  and  limited,  they  act  under 
immediate  direction,  they  exercise  routine  functions, 
have  no  initiative  and  little  discretion.  In  the  town 
meeting  the  initiative  lies  with  the  individual  citizen; 
that  body  also  retains  in  its  own  hands  the  whole  forma- 
tive process  and  acts  by  committees  when  it  is  necessary 
to  form  measures  which  the  mass  meeting  cannot  con- 
veniently do.  The  execution  of  special  undertakings 
is  also  entrusted  to  committees  or  commissions  created 
for  the  purpose. 

The  notion  of  special  fitness  for  pmblic  functions  is  here 
contracted  to  its  narrowest  scope,  both  because  the  func- 
tions are  reduced  to  their  lowest  form  and  because  the 
members  of  the  town  meeting  are  so  neariy  on  a  level 
of  fitness  that  the  selection  for  fitness  would  not  be 
important. 

Pure  Democracy  in  Cities.  This  arrangement  is 
well  adapted  for  a  small  and  simple  community  where 
public  duties  are  light,  where  the  occupations  and  in- 
terests are  substantially  the  same  and  equal,  where  the 
population  is  homogeneous,  and  where  responsibility 
to  the  public  opinion  of  neighbors  and  friends  is  great 
because  universal  observation  follows  every  public 
detail.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  town  increases  in  mere 
physical  size,  difficulties  arise  which  multiply  rapidly 
as  the  increase  goes  on.  A  large  town  has  a  large  town 
meeting.     The  division  of  labor  and  the  introduction 


258  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

of  diverse  occupations  break  up  the  old  simplicity  and 
uniformity;  the  requirements  increase  so  rapidly  that 
public  affairs  become  far  more  important;  universal 
acquaintance  no  longer  exists  amongst  all  townsmen; 
supervision  is  not  close  or  continuous  and  responsibility 
declines.  As  soon  therefore  as  the  town  meeting  reaches 
a  certain  size  it  becomes  an  arena  for  chicanery  and  fac- 
tion. Busy  citizens  cannot  attend  so  as  to  make  the 
meeting  full,  and  the  opportunity  for  "packing"  a  meet- 
ing is  offered;  the  town  is  therefore  the  prey  of  any 
energetic  faction  with  a  well  defined  purpose  which  it 
is  determined  to  accomplish.  Private  and  special  in- 
terests find  an  arena  of  conflict  in  the  town  meeting 
and  in  their  conflicts  with  each  other  the  conception  of 
public  interest  is  lost.  The  notion  that  the  people 
desire  only  to  have  the  public  good  provided  for  is  a 
delightful  political  dogma  which  it  would  be  pleasant  to 
believe  but  which  is  contradicted  by  the  observ^ation 
of  town  democracies.  The  people  do  not  positively  want 
what  is  for  the  public  good;  they  want,  in  a  positive 
and  active  sense,  what  is  for  their  interest.  The  vague 
and  benevolent  preference  for  the  public  good  which 
men  feel  when  their  own  interests  are  not  involved 
does  not  rise  high  enough  to  produce  self-sacrifice, 
work,  and  conflict. 

Hence  the  public  interest  needs  guarantees  in  con- 
stitutions, institutions,  popular  prejudices,  and  in  the 
character  of  public  men  whose  reputation  and  profes- 
sional success  lie  in  the  defence  of  the  public  interest. 
The  town  democracy  is  weak  in  all  these  things  and  is 
therefore  at  the  mercy  of  private  interests;  it  is  open  to 
the  instability  which  comes  from  impulse  and  passion 
and  short-sighted  motives.  In  the  best  case  it  has  to 
limit  itself   by  arbitrary  rules  which,  if   they  prevent 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  259 

abuses  on  one  side,  restrain  also  the  freedom  of  action 
which  is  necessary  on  another.  If  the  town  is  a  part  of 
a  larger  civil  body,  the  town  meeting  becomes  the  arena 
of  the  agitator,  the  wire-puller,  and  the  petty  demagogue. 
Party  spirit  reaches  its  worst  forms  in  the  rancorous 
strifes  of  a  small  neighborhood  with  no  wide  interests, 
and  this  is  what  furnishes  the  opportunity  of  all  the 
political  parasites. 

The  Evils  of  Overgrown  Towns.  In  such  a  po- 
litical system,  skill  in  party  warfare  becomes  the  most 
highly  prized  political  ability;  the  talents  which  are  the 
most  valuable  are  knowledge  of  men  and  shrewdness 
in  managing  them.  The  struggle  for  majority  becomes 
a  conflict  in  which  there  is  nothing  to  temper  the  ar- 
bitrary will  of  the  victors  and  in  which  no  rights  of 
the  vanquished  are  recognized.  No  leaders  are  openly 
recognized,  much  as  the  results  may  be  governed  by  a 
few,  and  there  is  no  room  for  the  idea  of  a  statesman. 
In  fact  the  first  requisite  in  a  leader  is  that  he  shall  dep- 
recate leadership;  he  must  at  least  feign  modesty.  To 
say  that  he  wants  office  is  to  condemn  the  candidate; 
no  one  may  offer  himself  to  the  suffrages  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  simply  because  he  thinks  that  he  can  serve  them 
and  is  willing  to  abide  by  their  decision  as  to  whether  they 
think  so  too  or  not.  Such  action,  which  is  open,  honest, 
and  honorable,  seems  egotistic,  and  the  candidate  is 
driven  to  secret  manoeuvres  and  to  hypocritical  pro- 
fessions. This  comes  from  the  conception  of  oflBces 
as  honors  or  privileges  granted  by  the  state,  when, 
in  truth,  oflSces  are  duties  and  trusts,  that  is,  burdens. 
In  like  manner  a  man  who  shows  independent  zeal  in 
public  affairs  is  thought  to  put  himself  forward;  he  is 
watched  with  keen  jealousy  lest  he  be  presuming  in 
wealth  or  education  or  position.     Finally,  it  may  be 


260  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

added  that  town  democracies  always  develop  a  fondness 
for  technicalities  and  a  great  zest  for  tactics  in  the  con- 
duct of  public  or  political  conflicts. 

These  are  the  faults  and  imperfections  of  town-democ- 
racies when  communities  outgrow  them.  They  have 
been  declining  here  for  thirty  or  forty  years,  and  have 
been  supplanted  by  incorporated  cities  or  absorbed  in 
a  higher  organization  of  the  state.  Where  they  still 
remain,  in  conjunction  with  city  organizations,  they  are 
purely  mischievous. 

The  Town  Superseded.  The  first  step  in  advance, 
therefore,  consists  in  the  adoption  of  representative 
government,  not  in  its  fullness  as  a  separate  political 
organization  but  as  a  makeshift  to  avoid  the  difficulties 
which  come  from  physical  size.  This  is  the  represen- 
tative democracy.  The  representative  of  a  democracy, 
however,  is  only  a  delegate;  a  representative  is  properly 
a  man  selected  because  he  represents,  and  is  endowed 
with  independence  and  responsibility.  The  delegate 
of  a  democracy  is  an  agent  to  perform  a  specific  duty, 
for  the  democracy  does  not  part  with  its  sovereignty 
to  the  delegates  nor  leave  them  to  use  its  sovereignty 
for  it.  It  binds  them  by  pledges  and  it  claims  to  control 
them  by  instructions.  The  delegates  are  agents  of 
local  and  other  interests  who  are  sent  into  an  arena 
where  interests  are  lost  or  won,  to  fight  for  particular 
ones.  They  do  not,  therefore,  form  a  great  council  of 
the  nation,  but  a  body  of  struggling  and  scrambling 
attorneys.  The  public  interest  is  a  vague  and  indefinable 
notion  which  finds  little  expression  amongst  them 
and  has  little  chance  of  prevailing,  except  so  far  as  the 
local  and  private  interests  may  neutralize  each  other. 
A  man  who  went  not  long  ago  to  a  state  capital  to  try 
to  get  something  done,  came  back  very  much  dissatis- 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  261 

fied  with  the  representative  from  his  district,  who  had 
refused  to  help  him;  he  said  that  the  representative 
"was  utterly  unpractical" — that  he  kept  referring  to 
something  which  he  called  the  "public  interest,"  which 
was  hostile  to  what  he  was  asked  to  do. 

Democratic  Fears.  The  public  interest,  however, 
is  the  thing  for  which  government  exists.  It  is  not  the 
sum  of  private  interests,  nor  a  compromise  between  them, 
but  a  distinct  conception  by  itself;  and  it  is  the  true 
object  of  the  statesman.  It  is  neutral  and  impartial 
as  to  all  private  interests;  it  simply  creates  equal  con- 
ditions under  which  private  interests  may  develop. 

In  its  relations  with  the  executive  the  democratic 
legislature  jealously  guards  its  independence.  Open  and 
honest  relations,  which  would  therefore  necessarily  be 
proper,  it  will  not  allow.  It  preserves  the  initiative 
and  restrains  the  executive  to  empty  recommendations; 
it  breaks  up  into  committees  as  its  only  practical  means 
of  investigating  facts  and  performing  the  drudgery 
of  preparing  business.  The  great  guarantee  of  publicity 
suffers  from  this  withdrawal  of  the  public  business  into 
the  committee  room,  while  the  same  plan  also  offers 
facilities  for  private  relations'  and  doubtful  influence 
on  the  part  of  the  executive. 

The  democracy,  in  its  dread  of  executive  power,  knows 
no  better  means  of  weakening  it  than  to  divide  it  amongst 
independent  officers.  It  fears  above  all  a  "one  man 
power"  and  sacrifices  to  this  fear  the  efficiency  of  the 
administration.  It  insists  also  on  electing  all  officers, 
or  as  many  as  possible,  by  popular  vote,  although  it  is 
impossible  that  the  mass  of  voters  can  ever  form  any 
judgment  as  to  the  qualifications  of  candidates  for  purely 
administrative  offices.  The  "ring"  is  a  distinct  out- 
growth of  this   arrangement  of  executive  power;    an 


262  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

officer  who  is  responsible  for  his  subordinates  never  makes 
a  ring  with  them;  a  ring  is  only  possible  between  inde- 
pendent and  co-ordinate  officers. 

As  for  the  executive  officers,  under  this  system  they 
are  scarcely  more  than  clerks  or  administrative  officers. 
Their  powers  and  functions  are  limited  far  below  the 
point  of  efficiency.  Official  discretion  is  jealously  for- 
bidden, although,  as  a  nation  grows  and  its  interests 
become  diversified  and  complex,  it  must  be  that  occasion 
will  often  arise  for  action  on  the  part  of  executive  officers 
which  may  be  most  timely  and  beneficial,  although  it 
has  been  ordained  by  no  act  of  the  legislature;  and  such 
action  ought  to  be  taken  under  responsibility  to  the 
representatives  of  the  people.  This,  indeed,  is  what 
government  means;  it  does  not  mean  the  mere  mechani- 
cal execution  of  routine  functions.  It  is  the  more 
urgently  necessary  because  the  present  system  affords 
opportunity  for  irresponsible  action  within  the  limits 
of  routine  duty  which  may  not  be  sanctioned  by  the 
nation.  A  striking  instance  of  this  was  furnished  by 
the  admission  of  Texas  to  the  Union. 

Lingering  Evils  of  Popular  Democracy.  The 
extension  of  the  notions  of  the  town-democracy  to  the 
administrative  service  of  the  nation  excludes  therefrom 
the  conception  of  greater  or  less  fitness.  The  traditional 
notion  of  public  functions,  as  within  the  powers  of  any 
citizen,  remains.  The  doctrine  of  equality,  which  no 
one  believes  in  anywhere  else,  is  supposed  to  be  the  great 
principle  of  politics.  I  presume  that  the  great  popular 
indifference  to  or  dislike  of  civil  service  reform  arises 
from  the  fact  that  the  notion  of  comparative  fitness  or 
unfitness  for  office  sins  against  the  doctrine  of  equality, 
and  the  sincere  inability  of  many  to  comprehend  what 
is  meant  when  it  is  said  that  civil  appointments  ought 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  26S 

to  be  made  on  business  principles  comes  from  the  long 
tradition  that  politics  belong  to  another  sphere  from 
business  and  ought  to  be  controlled  by  other  principles. 
As  the  people  have  not  yet  learned  to  apply  the  test  of 
fitness  to  elected  officers,  they  can  hardly  complain  that 
it  is  not  yet  applied  to  appointed  ones.  The  right  to  be 
chosen  to  office,  or  the  passive  electoral  right,  is  valued 
by  every  citizen,  and  if  rightly  understood  it  ought  to 
be  valued.  A  moment's  reflection  will  show,  however, 
that  there  is  no  absolute  right  of  the  kind.  The  only 
right  which  exists  is  that  of  every  man,  without  regard 
to  birth,  wealth,  or  other  conditions  of  life,  to  qualify 
himself  for  public  honor  and  trust,  and  to  be  privileged 
of  election  or  appointment  if  he  be  qualified.  If  the 
absolute  right  be  affirmed  without  the  condition,  the 
state  must  continually  suffer  from  bad  service  simply 
to  gratify  the  vanity  and  ambition  of  certain  men.  It 
is  only  natural,  however,  that  men  should  forget  or 
ignore  the  troublesome  condition,  and  when  they  do 
the  dogmas  of  rotation  in  office  and  of  frequent  elec- 
tions naturally  follow.  Those  men,  therefore,  who  said 
there  were  a  thousand  men  in  a  certain  county  who  were 
as  good  as  the  incumbent  of  a  certain  office,  and  that 
he  ought  to  be  turned  out  on  that  account,  spoke  with 
perfect  good  faith;  the  same  notion  has  prevailed  in  all 
democracies  and  it  has  always  led  inevitably  to  the 
distribution  of  offices  by  lot. 

Sovereignty  of  the  Majority.  The  sovereignty, 
in  the  meantime,  remains  with  the  popular  majority. 
In  any  true  conception  of  the  nation  the  sovereignty  of 
the  majority  is  a  different  thing  from  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people.  The  sovereignty  of  the  people  is  an 
expression  for  the  assent  of  the  nation  to  the  course  of 
national  affairs,  for  the  power  of  the  people  to  give  direc- 


264  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tion  to  those  affairs  or,  if  it  chooses,  to  arrest  them. 
The  people,  in  this  expression,  is  the  nation  as  a  great 
community  of  men,  women,  and  children,  knit  together 
by  a  thousand  bonds,  having  diverse  interests,  various 
abilities,  manifold  diversities  of  circumstance,  but  yet 
held  to  one  common  movement  by  the  great  laws  which 
govern  human  life.  In  this  sense  the  nation,  as  a  whole, 
has  wishes,  power,  will,  passions,  motives,  and  purposes, 
just  like  a  man.  But  the  sovereignty  of  the  majority 
is  not  the  equivalent  for  the  sovereignty  of  the  people, 
nor  yet  an  expression  of  it;  it  is  only  the  assumption  by 
a  part  of  the  prerogatives  which  belong  to  the  whole. 
Majority  rule  is  based  on  no  rational  principle;  it  is 
not  a  permanent  form  of  self-government;  it  is  only 
a  very  imperfect  practical  expedient,  for  want  of  some 
better  method  of  turning  public  opinion  into  a  practical 
determination  as  to  what  shall  be  done.  It  is  quite 
probable  that  some  better  device  for  the  same  end  may 
yet  be  invented.  No  fallacies  in  politics  are  more 
pernicious  than  those  which  transfer  to  a  popular  ma- 
jority all  the  old  claims  of  the  king  by  divine  right,  and 
lead  people  to  believe  that  the  notions  of  arbitrary  and 
irresponsible  power  are  not  wrong,  but  only  that  they 
were  wrong  when  applied  to  kings  or  aristocracies  and 
not  when  applied  to  popular  majorities. 

This  fallacy  of  course  inheres  in  democracy  by  its 
definition.  The  majority  profits  by  the  subtlety  of  the 
conception  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people  and  enjoys 
power  without  the  responsibility  which  always  follows 
any  king,  however  absolute  he  may  be.  The  majority 
cannot  be  called  to  account,  not  because,  like  a  con- 
stitutional king,  it  has  no  power,  but,  first,  because  it 
cannot  be  found  or  seized,  and  second,  because,  like  an 
autocrat,  it  will  submit  to  no  accountability.     It  has 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  265 

often  been  remarked  that  the  sovereign  people  has 
clothed  itself  with  all  the  old  prerogatives  and  is  as 
tenacious  of  them  as  any  other  depository  of  political 
sovereignty  ever  was.  The  sovereign  majority  will  not 
submit  to  criticism;  it  punishes  criticism  more  harshly 
than  by  any  press  laws;  it  is  as  eager  for  flattery  as  any 
monarch  and  as  inaccessible  to  harsh  truths;  it  will 
not  be  sued  for  its  debts;  it  claims  the  prerogative  of 
deciding  on  its  own  obligations  and  sometimes  shows 
an  obliquity  of  conscience  in  this  regard  as  great  as  that 
of  some  of  the  absolute  monarchs  of  history.  It  is  as 
tenacious  of  its  honor,  in  the  sense  of  demanding  all  due 
respect,  as  any  other  form  of  the  state,  but  it  is  not 
always  careful  of  its  honor,  in  the  sense  of  responsibility 
to  itself,  to  do  and  to  give  all  which  may  fairly  be 
demanded  of  it  —  it  is  not  always  sensitive  to  its 
international  reputation. 

Popular  Dislike  of  All  Aristocracy.  We  are 
here  engaged,  however,  more  particularly  with  the 
behavior  of  democracy  under  representative  institu- 
tions. Here  it  is  marked  by  a  jealous  desire  to  hold  in 
reserve  as  much  power  as  possible  and  to  delegate  only 
what  it  cannot  keep;  one  of  its  maxims,  accordingly, 
is  "measures,  not  men,"  expressing  its  desire  to  pass 
upon  measures  at  the  polls,  when  the  mass  meeting  is 
no  longer  possible.  In  its  jealousy  of  aristocracy  it 
condemns,  under  that  name,  any  prestige  of  wealth  or 
education;  it  prefers  to  rob  itself  of  useful  forces  rather 
than  to  recognize  in  those  forces  any  contradiction  to 
the  notion  of  equality.  The  forces  nevertheless  exist 
and  work  out  their  results.  Wealth  is  power,  and 
knowledge  is  power;  if  it  were  not  so  we  men  would 
never  work  as  we  do  to  secure  wealth  and  knowledge. 
When,  therefore,  wealth  is  denied  any  public  recogni- 


266  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tion  as  a  real  and  honorable  force,  which,  like  other 
forces,  needs  only  to  be  regulated  to  be  properly  and 
honorably  useful,  it  avenges  itself  by  recourse  to  secret 
methods,  to  dishonorable  uses,  and  exercises  corrupt 
influence.  Knowledge  has  no  more  honorable  applica- 
tion than  to  the  service  of  the  state;  its  power,  in  open 
and  public  use,  brings  the  highest  gratification  to  its 
possessor,  while  it  is  ennobled  by  such  application.  If, 
however,  we  regard  the  superiority  of  knowledge  in 
public  affairs  with  suspicion  and  distrust,  we  rob  our- 
selves of  its  service  while  it  remains  honorable,  or  we 
drive  it,  when  employed  in  political  life,  into  hypocritical 
humility  and  petty  devices  of  cunning. 

When  it  comes  to  actual  political  activity,  the  great 
practical  need  of  a  democracy  is  organization.  As  we 
saw,  the  town-democracy  is  made  up  of  an  unorganized 
body  with  good  intentions  but  few  positive  convictions 
and  well  formed  wishes;  hence  it  is  a  prey  to  a  united 
and  determined  minority.  The  union  of  all  the  good, 
a  union  long  talked  about  and  long  looked  for,  would 
no  doubt  defeat  all  selfish  factions;  but  the  union  of  all 
the  good  lacks  cohesive  force  and  dissipates  its  energies 
in  fruitless  discussions.  Now  when  the  democracy  is 
large,  and  no  longer  local,  organization  takes  the  place 
of  acquaintance,  sympathy,  and  personal  influence; 
parties  rise  into  the  highest  importance.  To  be  in  the 
minority  is  to  be  nothing;  to  be  in  the  majority  is  to 
enjoy  power  and  dignity  and  honor.  Party  success 
depends  upon  organization;  every  exertion  to  secure 
unity  and  singleness  of  determination  is  demanded  in  a 
close  division,  and  party  loyalty  and  party  effort  are 
prized  as  the  highest  political  virtues.  The  severe 
party  discipline  and  party  warfare  which  belong  to  a 
legislature  are  here  transferred  to  the  mass  of  electors. 


RESPONSIBLE   GOVERNMENT  267 

who  ought  to  be  critics  and  judges  —  or  rather,  perhaps, 
jurors  —  and  they  are  engaged  beforehand  as  advocates 
to  support  or  attack  the  majority  or  the  opposition  in 
its  course. 

Officious  Managers.  The  need  of  organization 
and  the  value  of  organization  rise  as  the  constituencies 
become  more  and  more  heterogeneous  and  contain  more 
and  more  uneducated  classes.  They  reach  a  maximum 
where  the  population  consists  of  two  classes  or,  worse 
still,  of  two  races,  of  very  unequal  culture.  Where 
organization  is  called  for  the  organizer  will  not  long  be 
wanting.  He  comes  with  his  inventions,  the  primary, 
the  caucus,  the  convention,  and  the  party  committee 
—  machinery  which  does  not  belong  to  the  town- 
democracy  or  to  any  other  form  of  government  but  which 
is  the  peculiar  product  of  the  representative  democracy 
and  is  essential  to  the  operation  of  that  system. 

The  combination  of  the  organizer  with  the  civil  oflScer 
comes  next  in  order  of  development.  We  are  gravely 
told  that  the  government  cannot  be  carried  on  unless 
there  are  men  to  arrange  the  machinery,  do  the  drudgery, 
and  work  up  the  interest;  that  the  civil  offices  ought  to 
be  given  to  men  who  are  capable  of  doing  this  work, 
and  that  their  services  ought  to  be  secured  in  that  way. 
It  must  be  conceded  that  such  a  class  is  essential  to 
the  working  of  a  representative  democracy,  but  if  we 
are  to  go  on  in  this  way  it  would  be  wise  and  economical 
to  recognize  such  functionaries  as  a  part  of  the  political 
system,  to  have  them  regularly  appointed  and  regularly 
paid,  on  the  principle  that  every  open  and  recognized 
activity  tends  to  come  under  proper  restraints  while 
every  subterfuge  tends  to  abuse.  If,  however,  any  one 
means  to  say  that  the  excitement  and  agitation  of  last 
year,  which  we  now  recognize  as  largely  the  work  of  the 


268  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

political  janissaries,  tended  to  any  good,  or  that  the 
government  could  not  be  carried  on  and  our  needs  in 
the  way  of  political  action  could  not  be  met  without 
going  through  what  we  went  through  last  year  to  reach 
the  point  at  which  we  stand  to-day,  he  will  find  it  very 
difficult  to  prove  it.  It  is  not  self-government  to  have 
Congressmen  appoint  local  civil  officers  and  civil  officers 
secure  the  election  of  Congressmen  in  perpetual  reitera- 
tion. I  call  it  a  self -perpetuating  oligarchy.  It  is  not 
civil  liberty  to  walk  in  processions  and  cast  ballots  once 
in  a  while  under  such  a  system.  When  we  are  told 
that  we  cannot  govern  ourselves  except  by  this  ma- 
chinery, it  seems  a  worse  insult  than  to  say  that  we 
cannot  govern  ourselves  without  a  king,  or  a  privileged 
class,  or  titles  and  ribbons,  or  pensions  and  parlia- 
mentary corruption.  The  people  who  make  such  asser- 
tions pique  themselves  on  being  "practical"  when 
they  are  only  base  and  vulgar;  but  it  remains  to  be 
proved  that  the  people  need  to  be  debauched  with  their 
own  money  and  by  their  own  servants,  in  order  to  carry 
on  a  government  whose  boast  it  is  that  it  has  thrown 
away  all  the  old  instruments  of  political  debauchery. 
If  it  is  true,  then  let  us  try  to  govern  ourselves  awhile 
or  do  without  government  until  we  have  better.  We 
may,  at  any  rate,  hazard  the  experiment. 

The  Spoils  System.  The  spoils  doctrine  arises  from 
the  corrupt  conception  of  the  civil  service  joined  with 
the  notion  of  party  politics  at  war.  The  parties  in  a 
democracy  carry  on  their  contests  as  if  there  were  no 
limits  to  the  privileges  of  the  victory  —  hardly  those 
which  humanity  imposes  in  war;  the  current  phraseology 
of  parties  is  a  series  of  war-metaphors.  Autocrats  and 
democratic  majorities  strike  down  opposition  as  crimi- 
nal; they  allow  little  room  for  the  conception  of  consti- 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  «69 

tutional  opposition.  It  is  thought  that  to  be  heroic  is 
to  be  radical,  and  that  when  victory  is  won  in  a  politi- 
cal battle  nothing,  least  of  all  the  protests  of  the  minor- 
ity, ought  to  arrest  the  self-will  of  the  victors.  There  is 
a  vigor  and  ruthlessness  which  is  totally  out  of  place  in 
politics.  When  it  has  been  established  that  the  power 
or  the  legal  right  to  do  a  thing  exists,  it  is  considered 
pusillanimous  to  have  scruples  about  exercising  the 
power.  Such  notions  are  hostile  to  any  true  concep- 
tions of  party  or  party  rule,  and  they  lead  to  those 
victories  to  win  which  parties  destroy  institutions. 

Now  when  parties  have  definite  principles,  this  con- 
ception leads  to  sweeping  and  tyrannical  attempts  to 
realize  their  theories  in  fact.  When  they  have  few  or 
no  principles,  their  contests  degenerate  into  struggles 
for  power  and  place,  and  victory  means  that  we  or  you 
shall  take  the  offices.  Wm.  L.  Marcy  was  by  no  means 
one  of  the  bad  men  who  have  been  prominent  in  Ameri- 
can politics,  and  the  education  which  could  make  such 
a  man  enunciate  the  bold  doctrine  that  "to  the  victors 
belong  the  spoils"  in  the  unblushing  way  in  which  he 
uttered  it  is  worth  studying.  Men  of  decent  character 
and  good  education  do  not  invent  such  doctrines  and 
spring  them  on  sedate  deliberative  bodies  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment,  and  the  notion  that  Marcy  invented 
the  spoils  doctrine  or  that  Jackson,  out  of  his  own  evil 
determination,  set  out  to  demoralize  the  civil  service, 
is  both  historically  false  and  philosophically  absurd. 
These  twin  abuses  were  the  culmination  of  a  long  history. 
When  Marcy  said,  "To  the  victors  belong  the  spoils," 
he  only  gave  new,  distinct,  and  dogmatic  expression  to 
the  theories  in  which  he  had  been  educated,  and  the 
context  of  his  speech  shows  that  he  was  not  conscious 
of  uttering  anything  which  ought  to  shock  any  one  of 


270  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

those  who  heard  him.  He  thought  that  the  victors 
ought  to  undertake  the  administration  of  the  govern- 
ment, which  is  not  disputed  by  any  one;  he  had  grown 
up,  however,  in  conflicts  which  hinged  on  no  principles 
of  administration  or  policy,  but  chiefly  on  questions  of 
who  were  to  have  the  offices.  He  had  grown  up  in  a 
young  and  loose  society  where  there  were  few  great 
interests  or  important  questions  at  stake;  the  people 
of  New  York  in  his  day  had  no  wearing  political  anxie- 
ties, no  hard  problems  of  internal  or  external  policy, 
no  heavy  taxation,  no  old  abuses,  no  stubborn  vested  in- 
terests. It  was  possible  to  gratify  any  man's  ambition 
or  vanity  by  giving  him  public  office,  with  its  light  and 
meager  duties;  it  would  involve  no  heavy  risks  and  he 
could  do,  at  most,  but  little  harm.  Of  a  consequence 
parties  formed  around  leaders  and  more  as  alliances  to 
secure  certain  objects  of  interest  and  ambition;  and 
to  win  the  political  battle  was,  of  course,  to  win  these 
objects.  It  is  idle,  therefore,  to  indulge  in  denunciation 
of  the  spoils  doctrine;  it  is  a  phenomenon,  with  its  own 
development  and  history;  it  demands  our  study  for  its 
causes  and  its  meaning.  The  causes  lie  in  the  nature 
of  parties  amongst  us,  in  the  social  and  political  circum- 
stances of  our  communities,  in  the  prevailing  conception 
of  party  warfare,  and  in  the  importance  of  organization 
under  our  political  system. 

The  Imbecility  of  Our  Present  Organization. 
The  greatest  fault  of  this  representative  democracy, 
aside  from  its  inadequateness  for  the  needs  of  a  great 
nation,  is  its  weakness  in  the  face  of  local  demands  and 
interested  cliques.  A  system  which  is  a  representative 
of  interests  looks  upon  the  effort  to  get  what  one  wants 
as  natural  and  in  the  order  of  things,  to  be  resisted  by 
those  only  whose  interests  may  be  threatened.    The  con- 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  271 

flict  of  politics  therefore  degenerates  into  a  struggle 
of  will -force  measured  by  votes;  arguments  are  thrown 
away  in  all  battles  —  when  two  bodies  of  men  with 
opposing  determinations  meet,  then  force  of  the  kind 
suited  to  the  arena  must  decide.  Hence  the  weakness 
of  the  representative  democracy,  in  its  inability  to  give 
support  to  the  public  interest,  or  the  national  welfare, 
or  a  permanent  policy,  or  a  far-sighted  benefit,  in  the 
face  of  a  sectional  demand,  or  a  temporary  and  short- 
sighted desire  of  a  large  number,  or  the  selfish  purpose 
of  a  strong  clique.  This  weakness  is  especially  apparent 
in  face  of  the  effort  of  a  powerful  corporation  which 
can  influence  a  large  number  of  votes  and  has  an 
interest  strong  enough  to  make  it  use  money  freely. 
The  deepest  disgrace  which  has  ever  come  upon  us  as  a 
nation  has  come  from  this  source,  and  we  are  threatened 
with  more.  It  does  not  seem  possible  that  our  previous 
experience,  which  so  fully  occupied  the  public  mind  only 
a  few  years  ago,  can  have  failed  to  make  its  due  impres- 
sion upon  us. 

General  Irresponsibility.  The  last  observation 
I  have  to  make  on  the  representative  democracy  is  that 
it  nowhere  involves  political  responsibility.  The  con- 
stitutional struggles  of  English  history  have  consisted 
in  the  effort  to  bring  the  crown  under  responsibility  to 
the  nation  in  the  exercise  of  sovereign  powers.  With 
us  the  sovereign  powers  are  in  the  hands  of  a  popular 
majority — but  is  it  possible  to  make  the  majority  respon- 
sible to  the  whole  .'^  Some  think  that  the  majority  need 
not  be  made  responsible,  in  other  words,  that  the  power 
and  rights  of  the  majority  are  in  the  nature  of  preroga- 
tive. Others  think  that  the  only  responsibility  which 
is  necessary  is  that  of  a  party.  A  party,  however,  is 
an  abstraction;    it  cannot  be  held  responsible  or  pun- 


f»  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

itktd;  if  it  is  deprived  ot  power  it  fades  into  thin  air 
and  the  men  who  comp»osed  it,  especially  those  who  did 
the  miscliief  and  needed  discipline,  quickly  reappear  in 
llie  new  majority.  The  refpoofllnlity  of  a  party  is 
only  the  re^xmsibflity  of  the  nation  to  itself,  or  of  an 
old  najoritj  to  a  new  one,  and  it  has  no  other  form  than 
*  sew  daetioot  lor  which  it  is  only  another  cA'pussimL. 
FiBinDi  ASB  Ibbmvowhble,  Party  respoosikility 
is  soty  howercr^  any  guarantee  ol  civil  liberty  nor  any 
hood  for  the  Ofgaoization  of  govennnental  organs.  It 
eoold  oat  be  rery  servioeable  to  good  government  unless 
parties  were  rery  free  in  their  formation  and  dissolu- 
tion and  the  public  criticism  of  party  politics  very 
actire.  It  is  in  this  oonoeetion  that  the  fast  organiza- 
tioo  of  parties,  whidi  seem,  mm  we  have  seen,  essential 
to  democracy,  is  most  misdtievoas,  for  it  neutralizes 
the  only  form  of  respooflbiHtj  ipiudi  exists  in  a  democ- 
faey*  In  our  experience  it  has  been  proved  that  the 
Presidential  dection  rallies  and  confirms  party  organi- 
sations every  four  yean  and  that  in  the  interval  they 
dedine  and  tend  to  freer  combinations.  The  Icgisla- 
tore,  t^eded  partly  at  these  intervals  and  deeted  by 
delMched  constituencies  in  which  the  varieties  and 
minor  fbietuMtioDB  of  public  opinion  find  eiqwession  mm 
ihey  do  not  in  the  great  mass  vote  for  President,  con- 
stitutes a  far  more  satisfat.-tory  exponent  of  national 
ieding  and  will  than  the  executive.  I  do  not  hesitate 
to  «q>ress  the  opinum  that  the  government  would 
to-day  stand  on  a  much  higher  plane  of  purity,  energy, 
mad  eAdeaey  than  it  now  does,  if  it  had  followed  the 
lines  indicated  in  Congressiond  elections,  without  the 
pcriodicd  diodes  of  the  Presidentid  dections.  We 
d^ne  the  functions  of  our  public  offices,  and  elect  men 
to  pcfform  those  functions  for  limited  times.    If  we  do 


RESPON^BLE  GO^TLELNMENT  :!73 


not  dect  good  obcs  ve  kaTe  bo  oae  te  Uuse  bulk 
selves.  Tbis  is  ^e  oailjr  rnfffplMM  «l 
which  the  system  seess  to  adtaHl>  awi  tke  coBM^joence 
ol  the  politicaJ  ediKKtiMi  wlbiek  it  gives  is  tlitat  people 
amc«iy  seem  to  mdetstand  wliat  the  aotioB  ol 
aibfl^i  in  govefsmettt  is^ 

The  Dumocxact  Nsxdsdl  I  have 
analysis  aad  runnWrm  <il  ^OBOtracy  wi^  tike  ideft  tihat 
any  amotmt  of  ciitki&m  cedU  OTertkrov  < 
lead  to  the  abandonment  o£  it;  ok  Ike 
I  see  that  institutioDs  are  iMted  a  tke  ^ancfter  of  Ike 
people  and  in  the  cirouBslaMCS  «l  the  oiaftiyw  I  take 
tkem  as  thi^  are.  XWie  ia  «a  ^Mafr  agaiBl  tkiM_ 
if  any  oBewaaAaiita^iL  Ikanency  has  giovB  kere» 
as  I  have  espcodl]^  attCHipted  to  skow,  kiicamif.  crefv 
condition  lavated  it:  we  never  caaU  kaTe  kaiA 
^bg  else:  ve  cannot  have,  ^  a 
any  goN-emment  in  which  tke 
■ol  prcpottiante.  Neither  caa  I  see  tkat  aay^ 
lona  of  iDstihrtxns*  in  spite  oC  all  tike  iwafts  ol 
lacT**  would  be,  on  the  wkah^.  a^  vdl  aiAiplcd  Itr  as  ia 
oar  present  ckcnaHtaaccSi.  We  aie  imtj  ■aBoas  ol 
pM^fe  «ka^  a  Utib  lAfle  i«%  kad  MttH«;  Md  ia  tike 

ev'er  fettaif  a^ytiUigw  Tk^  tdl  as  ^At  are  kaxe  oa^ 
a  arterial  civilization  and  ^At  we 
kaft&edottar.  Ia  ^e  Maia  tike  ckHce  is  trai^  kaft 
aie  yet  kia^  ia  accaawirtBig  tike  lalitiJ  rapilal 
is  the  finril  taadte>a  of  cinkaatiaa  awl  material  gRal- 
aess  —  we  are  lij«|^  tf»  laaMiiAiaas  ol  a  gieat  aatiw^ 
aad  ii  we  are  laying  ^lem  ia  tike  mudU  tikat  is  wkm.  aJI 
Ibawiations  ha\-e  to  rest.  Tkaae  iA»  kaTe 
capital  raMphia^  iriA  fWiJI  jaatiw^  tikat  ^e 
^rstem   tkiawa   aa   ^Kat   exceptional   burdeas 


274  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

it  practically  excludes  them  from  the  higher  political 
privileges;  those  who  want  to  pursue  science,  literature, 
and  art  complain  of  the  unfavorable  atmosphere  for 
their  work,  and  their  complaint  is  just.  These  points 
of  view  only  bring  out  the  various  aspects  of  our  posi- 
tion —  its  advantages  and  disadvantages.  We  must 
take  them  both  together  and  make  the  best  of  them. 

Democracy  and  Wealth.  Democratic  institutions 
have  had  no  positive  effect  in  assisting  this  material  de- 
velopment; it  has  rested  on  economic  causes;  but  demo- 
cratic institutions,  by  their  looseness  and  simplicity,  have 
left  social  competition  free  to  act.  That  is  the  way 
they  have  involved  a  large  measure  of  liberty,  set  against 
the  conventional  barriers  of  birth,  rank,  and  social 
position.  Under  this  regime  merit  has  been  able  to 
find  its  level  everywhere  but  in  politics;  in  other  words, 
liberty  has  tended  to  destroy  equality  in  other  spheres, 
and  since  the  doctrine  of  equality  prevailed  in  politics, 
the  contradictions  between  political  and  social  develop- 
ment are  readily  explained.  That  merit  should  prevail 
under  free  competition,  where  it  relies  only  on  itself, 
more  easily  than  under  an  electoral  system,  where  it 
relies  on  the  recognition  of  men,  is  not  strange. 

The  belief  that  democratic  institutions  have  had  posi- 
tive efficacy  in  connection  with  material  prosperity,  and 
that  it  is  due  to  them  that  conventional  barriers  have  had 
so  little  standing  here,  has  had  much  to  do  with  the 
affection  of  the  people,  in  times  past,  for  those  institu- 
tions. I  have  had  in  view,  however,  in  my  present 
undertaking,  the  discontents  which  mark  the  rise  of  a 
pK)litical  skepticism  which  was  unknown  here  twenty 
years  ago.  Doubts  about  American  institutions  have 
arisen  in  quarters  where  there  was  the  fullest  faith; 
lamentations  over  degeneracy  and  corruption  have  be- 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  275 

come  common  —  they  will  be  renewed  at  the  end  of  the 
first  year  of  the  new  Presidential  term,  which  is  always 
our  golden  age.  In  my  contact  with  young  men  I  am 
continually  and  painfully  struck  by  the  fact  that,  al- 
though they  have  a  great  deal  of  feeling  and  enthusiasm 
for  parties  and  men,  they  do  not  respect  the  institutions 
of  their  country  and  deem  it  no  shame  to  express  con- 
tempt for  Congress  or  for  state  legislatures.  When  I 
turn  to  the  newspapers  it  seems  to  me  that  a  stranger 
who  read  them  would  think  that,  throwing  aside  all 
incidental  and  unimportant  matters,  the  three  essential 
organs  of  the  American  government  are  the  President, 
the  politicians,  and  the  people,  and  that  the  practical 
question  of  our  politics  is :  Which  two  of  these  will  com- 
bine against  the  other?  I  have,  therefore,  attempted 
to  set  forth  both  the  strength  and  the  limitations  of  the 
American  representative  democracy.  I  regard  it  as  a 
necessary  stage  in  the  political  development  of  the 
country;  I  regard  it  as  inadequate  for  the  needs  of  the 
nation  which  is  growing  up;  I  regard  the  inferences 
which  have  been  drawn  from  it  in  regard  to  the  abstract 
goodness  of  democracy  as  entirely  fallacious;  I  do  not 
see  how  democracy,  in  an  old  country,  can  ever  be 
anything  but  a  short  road  to  Caesarism. 

The  Future.  With  regard  to  the  future  develop- 
ment of  our  system,  we  may  be  sure  that  it  will  take 
place  steadily  and  necessarily.  We  shall  not  make  any 
great  reforms  or  sweeping  changes.  All  that  comes 
about  will  have  to  proceed  out  of  our  past  history,  be 
built  upon  it,  and  be  consistent  with  it.  No  constitu- 
tional or  other  changes  can  be  brought  about  by  con- 
gresses of  learned  men  or  by  voluntary  organizations 
which  are  not  in  accord  with  the  genius  of  the  election 
and  its  circumstances.     The  revisions  which  have  been 


276  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

made  in  state  constitutions  during  the  last  twenty-fiv 
years  have  shown  a  distinct  tendency  to  introduc 
conservatism,  higher  organization  (especially  of  the  ex 
ecutive  departments),  longer  terms  of  office,  and  so  on 
The  democratic  tendency  has  passed  its  culminatioB 
and  experience  has  shown  the  limitations  of  certain  o 
its  dogmas  and  the  error  of  others.  Many  of  the  pro 
visions  of  these  later  constitutions  show  that  the  peopl 
do  not  trust  themselves;  they  put  away  from  themselve 
certain  powers  which  they  have  abused.  These  provi 
sions  are  like  total  abstinence  pledges,  needful  as  a  pro] 
to  self-control  when  it  is  weak,  but,  when  made  by  states 
destructive  of  a  liberty  which  it  may,  upon  occasion 
be  very  necessary  to  exercise. 

It  is  a  popular  opinion  that  popular  institutions  ar 
the  only  good  ones  and  the  only  ones  necessary.  Thi 
is  an  error;  civil  liberty  cannot  exist  without  the  institu 
tions  of  power  and  authority  as  well  as  the  institution 
which  secure  popular  rights.  Civil  liberty  is  a  form  o 
national  life  which  can  be  secured  in  its  true  equilibriun 
only  by  a  great  body  of  institutions,  which  are  good  onl; 
when  all  together  and  all  in  their  due  proportion.  With 
out  their  due  proportion,  nations  fluctuate  between  th( 
liberty  of  the  guillotine  and  the  order  of  Csesarism,  bu 
never  find  the  steady  path  of  civil  liberty;  with  the  du( 
proportion  of  these  institutions  nations  may  enjoy  civi 
liberty  according  to  the  traditions  and  tastes  of  each 
under  monarchical  or  aristocratic  or  democratic  insti 
tutions.  We  have  hitherto  had  popular  institutions  ii 
abundance,  and  our  popular  institutions  are  strong 
but  our  institutions  of  order,  authority,  organization 
and  responsibility  have  been  weak.  Our  circumstances 
both  internal  and  external,  have  been  such  that  we  hav( 
not  felt  the  need;  but  those  foreigners  who  infer  fron 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  277 

our  experience  that  an  old  country  can  dispense  with  its 
institutions  of  order  and  authority  and  get  on  without 
them  as  well  as  we,  manifest  a  very  shallow  philosophy. 

Necessary  Modifications.  It  is  safe  to  say  now 
that  our  future  development  will  be  in  the  way  of 
extending  and  modifying  our  institutions  so  as  to  fit 
the  needs  of  a  great  nation.  The  Civil  War  has  had  a 
great  effect  in  hastening  on  this  necessity  and  hastening 
the  maturity  of  the  nation,  for  it  has  overloaded  our 
institutions  with  new  and  startling  difficulties.  To  carry 
on  a  great  civil  war,  to  finish  it  and  return  to  peace  and 
order,  seemed  a  great  triumph  for  democracy;  it  now 
appears  that  that  achievement  was  a  comparatively 
slight  one.  No  political  system  which  has  ever  existed 
is  so  powerful  or  can  develop  so  much  physical  force 
as  a  democracy  when  it  is  composed  of  a  large,  eager, 
and  compact  majority,  animated  by  a  spontaneous 
resolve  for  a  single  purpose.  Its  power  is  so  great  that 
it  would  be  unendurable  if  it  were  possible  to  form 
any  such  majority  by  artificial  organization. 

The  War.  The  War,  however,  carried  us  on  to  an- 
other stage  of  civil  life;  it  left  us  a  large  number  of  abuses 
such  as  are  inseparable  from  war;  it  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity for  great  interests  to  become  vested;  it  opened 
a  new  and  wider  arena  to  the  demagogue,  and  in  fact 
produced  a  differentiation  in  demagogues.  The  ques- 
tions at  issue  in  politics  had  their  moral,  religious,  eth- 
nological, emotional,  and  economical,  as  well  as  their 
political  phases,  and  groups  of  persons  were  formed  who 
seized  upon  such  of  these  phases  as  came  easiest  to  them, 
and  obscured  the  questions  while  they  befogged  the  pub- 
lic mind  by  superficial  comments.  The  limits  of  politi- 
cal discussion  were  naturally  obliterated  and  the  correct 
conception  of  what  are  properly  political  considerations 


«78  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

was  lost.  So  far  has  this  gone  that  some  people  seem 
to  think  it  low  and  degrading  to  discuss  political  ques- 
tions by  political  arguments,  but  make  a  merit  of  mixing 
up  benevolence  and  business,  patriotism  and  engineering 
enterprise,  charity  and  civil  government,  emotion  and 
legislation,  sentiment  and  the  administration  of  justice, 
the  rights  of  man  and  police  control,  education  and  pun- 
ishment, moral  training  and  criminal  law,  equality  and 
the  supervision  of  industry,  religion  and  sanitary  regu- 
lation, humanity  and  the  repression  of  vice. 

This  confusion  has  been  anything  but  helpful  in  the 
solution  of  the  great  problems  which  the  altered  state 
of  things  has  brought  with  it.  In  the  old  ante-war  times 
this  confusion  would  have  made  little  difference,  because 
there  was  little  occasion  to  put  any  theories  into  practice 
on  such  a  scale  as  to  do  great  harm;  but  with  a  large 
debt,  a  depreciated  currency,  heavy  taxation,  a  new  or- 
der of  things  to  create  in  the  South,  and  wasted  capital 
to  replace,  this  confusion  in  pohtical  methods  and  in 
the  sphere  of  the  various  institutions  amongst  which 
social  work  is  divided  has  been  most  mischievous. 

We  have  also  reached,  since  the  War,  that  stage  in 
many  of  our  industries  at  which  the  organizing  activity 
of  government  becomes  important  to  recognize  and  give 
legal  sanction  to  usages,  to  collect  information,  and  to 
furnish  general  public  facilities.  It  is  evident  that  the 
possible  advantages  from  the  Bureaus  of  Agriculture, 
Education,  Statistics,  the  Census,  and  the  Signal  Ser- 
vice, from  explorations  of  the  new  territories  and  from 
scientific  expeditions,  increase  every  year  with  the  de- 
velopment of  the  nation,  and  that  the  loss  is  greater 
every  year  if  the  management  is  not  enlightened. 

If  we  look  at  another  department  of  public  life  we  find 
the  same  thing  true.     Our  notion  of  what  a  modern  city 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  279 

ought  to  be  has  expanded  very  much  within  twenty 
years,  and  to  satisfy  this  notion  there  is  a  demand  for 
great  technical  knowledge  and  skill,  a  permanent  policy 
steadily  pursued,  and  a  large  expenditure  of  money. 
The  notion  that  any  man  can  do  anything,  that  any 
man  is  good  enough  to  serve  the  public,  does  more 
mischief  here,  perhaps,  than  anywhere  else. 

Reform.  The  effect  of  all  these  observations,  as  they 
force  themselves  one  after  another  upon  the  attention 
of  the  people,  must  be  to  establish  the  conviction  that 
our  institutions  are,  in  some  respects,  inadequate  to  the 
needs  of  to-day,  and  especially  that  the  public  tasks 
cannot  be  adequately  performed  save  by  competent 
men.  The  agitation  for  the  reform  of  the  civil  service, 
little  as  it  has  as  yet  accomplished,  bears  witness  that 
the  public  mind  is  already  moving  and  that  it  has  found 
its  true  point  of  attack.  The  most  fatal  breach  in  all 
existing  abuses  would  be  the  separation  of  the  oflBce- 
holders  from  the  work  of  organizing  parties  and  manag- 
ing elections,  and  any  civil  service  reform  which  does 
not  make  that  its  aim  is  a  delusion.  With  this  reform 
accomplished,  a  chance  will  be  opened  for  a  better  pub- 
lic opinion  to  act  upon  the  elections  and  to  make  itself 
felt  in  the  choice  of  legislators.  Here,  however,  is 
where  public  opinion  itself  needs  further  development; 
in  view  of  the  great  tasks  which  weigh  upon  us  in  public 
affairs,  we  shall  have  to  abandon  the  notion  that  we  can 
all  solve  those  problems  as  easy  incidents  to  our  ordinary 
occupations.  We  shall  have  to  do  as  we  do  elsewhere, 
adopt  a  new  division  of  labor  and  a  higher  organization; 
we  shall  have  to  select  men,  who,  if  they  are  not  already 
specially  trained,  enjoy  our  confidence  in  regard  to  their 
ability  to  investigate  and  decide,  if  they  undertake  this 
as  a  special  duty.     Such  men  will  no  longer  be  democratic 


280  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

delegates  but  true  "representatives";  a  body  of  such  men 
selected  from  various  constituencies  would  "represent" 
the  nation  or  the  state  as  no  popular  majority  ever  does. 
They  would  present  the  state  in  miniature;  and  any  one 
who  wanted  to  deal  with  the  state  would  have  to  deal 
with  them.  For  all  practical  purposes,  they  would  be  the 
state,  would  embody  its  wisdom  and  its  will,  and  would 
decide  on  its  action.  They  would  constitute  the  great 
council  of  the  nation;  they  would  have  to  act  on  their 
judgment  and  at  their  discretion  and  would  therefore 
necessarily  be  independent.  They  would  be  under  the 
observation  of  the  people,  who  would  judge  by  the  re- 
sult who  were  wise  and  who  were  foolish,  who  were 
worthy  of  confidence  and  who  were  not,  who  were  ca- 
pable of  filling  the  trust  laid  upon  them  and  who  were 
not.  Such  representatives  would  find  their  reputation 
and  their  professional  advancement  dependent  on  their 
success  in  promoting  the  permanent  welfare  of  the  state; 
the  public  interest  would  be  their  chief  charge  as  against 
all  private  interests. 

Responsible  Government.  All  associations  of  men 
form  their  own  code,  their  rules  of  etiquette,  and  their 
esprit  du  corps.  They  are  guided  in  this  by  a  common 
interest  which  leads  them  to  form  such  rules  as  will 
assist  each  member  in  what  is  necessary  to  success  and 
protect  each  member  against  the  most  probable  dangers. 
The  code  of  any  legislative  body  in  the  country,  under 
existing  circumstances,  will  serve  to  illustrate  this.  In 
such  a  body  as  I  have  described  the  code  would  adjust 
itself  to  the  circumstances.  The  members  would  sus- 
tain each  other  against  assaults  which  threatened  the 
reputation  of  the  body  or  the  independence  of  members. 
The  great  desire  of  all  public  servants  is  for  approval; 
re-election  is  desired  oftener  for  this  than  for  any  other 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  281 

reason,  and  the  fear  of  disapproval,  or  what  we  call 
political  responsibility,  offers  a  check  upon  such  a  body 
in  favor  of  the  true  control  of  the  people,  which  is  per- 
fect in  its  action  and  complete  for  the  purpose.  Such 
a  system  would  indeed  be  a  barrier  to  empty  vanity  and 
petty  ambition,  but  it  would  give  better  government; 
and  it  will  come  when  we  learn,  perhaps  by  bitter  ex- 
perience, that  we  cannot  do  without  it.  It  would  call 
the  leisure  class  into  the  service  of  the  state,  for  it  is 
they  who  owe  the  state  public  service.  The  wealthy 
class,  in  this  country  at  any  rate,  show  by  the  acquisition 
of  capital  that  they  possess  talent  and  force;  they  more- 
over possess  independence,  without  which  no  man  is 
a  politician.  Their  employment  in  the  public  service 
would  help  to  bring  about  the  balance  of  burdens  and 
privileges,  rights  and  duties,  power  and  responsibility, 
without  which  a  highly  developed  state  cannot  enjoy 
permanent  civil  order.  The  decay  of  the  old  doctrine 
of  "instructions"  seems  to  me  to  mark  some  progress, 
if  only  slight,  towards  an  independent  and  responsible 
legislature. 

Statesmen.  It  is,  furthermore,  in  a  body  of  inde- 
pendent and  responsible  legislators  that  statesmen  are 
developed  —  I  mean  by  a  statesman  a  man  who  plans 
practical  measures  for  rendering  well-tested  principles 
actually  active  for  the  welfare  of  a  state.  He  always 
needs,  also,  to  be  able  to  defend  his  measures  and  to 
recommend  them  to  people  who  are  not  yet  convinced  of 
their  excellence.  It  is  not  possible  that  parliamentary  elo- 
quence which,  in  spite  of  all  the  sneers  at  it,  is  the  grand 
educator  of  the  nation  under  free  institutions,  should 
flourish  under  a  system  of  committee  legislation.  That 
is  a  system  which  calls  for  intrigue  and  personal  influ- 
ence, leaves  full  opportunity  for  the  abuses  which  flourish 


282  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

when  sheltered  from  publicity,  and  allows  public  speak- 
ing to  degenerate  into  a  perfunctory  performance.  Par- 
liamentary debate,  when  properly  conducted,  consists 
of  discussion  —  of  the  conflict  of  mind  with  mind  in  all 
the  exercises  which  tend  to  develop  correct  thinking  and 
to  force  examination  of  a  subject  in  all  its  bearings,  so 
that  the  measure  adopted  truly  represents  the  best  wis- 
dom of  the  body  which  passed  it.  This  debate  develops 
an  eloquence  of  its  own,  pure,  clear,  simple,  and  busi- 
ness-like —  as  free  from  bombastic  rhetoric  as  from 
pedantry;  a  deliberative  body  which  practices  it  is  a 
school  of  statesmen.  I  notice  no  tendency  which  seems 
to  me  more  to  be  regretted  than  the  apparent  loss  to  the 
public  mind  of  the  true  notion  of  a  free  discussion. 

The  principle  of  responsibility  has  its  bearing  also 
upon  the  opposition.  The  opposition  has  a  peculiar 
function,  under  constitutional  government,  to  criticize, 
resist,  and  bring  out  opposing  considerations;  it  enforces 
care  and  deliberation.  Its  great  danger  is  lest  it  become 
factious  and  reckless;  and  the  great  safeguard  against 
this  is  the  requirement  that  the  opposition,  if  successful, 
shall  assume  the  administration  and  the  responsibility 
and  make  its  criticisms  good.  With  this  prospect  before 
it,  it  is  forced  to  moderation  and  reflection.  It  is  some- 
times said  of  a  public  man  that  he  would  be  spoiled  if  he 
took  administrative  office,  but  it  would  be  impossible  to 
pass  a  more  complete  condemnation  upon  a  person  in 
such  a  career.     It  stamps  him  as  a  mere  vulgar  agitator. 

The  Executive.  The  executive  must  also  be  brought 
under  the  principle  of  responsibility.  How  this  is  to 
be  accomplished  under  our  system  is  not  yet  clear.  That 
the  executive  must  be  brought  into  open  and  honorable 
relations  to  the  legislature  for  the  development  of  good 
government  is  certain;   but  how  to  engraft  the  English 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  283 

plan  on  our  system  I  do  not  see.  The  man  who  should 
devise  an  expedient  as  well  suited  to  our  system  as  the 
English  plan  is  to  theirs  would  deserve  to  rank  amongst 
the  greatest  public  benefactors. 

At  present  the  President  of  the  United  States  has  both 
too  much  power  and  too  little.  He  has  more  than  any 
man  ought  to  have  without  responsibility,  and  he  has 
less  than  a  competent  head  of  the  nation  needs  to  have, 
if  he  is  responsible  for  its  exercise  only  by  the  contin- 
uance or  loss  of  power.  He  needs  to  act  often  with  a 
wide  discretion  on  his  judgment  of  the  public  interest. 
He  also  wants  an  organ  for  influencing  public  opinion 
to  secure  support  or  deprecate  opposition.  Formerly 
this  need  led  him  to  have  a  newspaper  under  his  con- 
trol; now  he  has  recourse  to  the  unworthy  and  untrust- 
worthy expedient  of  the  interview  or  an  irresponsible 
utterance  to  a  correspondent.  He  needs  also  a  means 
of  communicating  with  Congress  other  than  the  tedious 
and  lifeless  message  or  the  private  interview  with 
members. 

The  old  writers  thought  that  good  government  could 
be  secured  by  a  division  of  departments  and  by  a  system 
of  checks  and  balances.  But  the  division  of  depart- 
ments —  if  it  means  that  we  need  only  make  them  suf- 
ficiently independent  of  one  another  and  then  that  they 
will  be  sure  to  go  right  —  is  an  empty  dogma;  and  the 
system  of  checks  and  balances,  if  it  were  perfect,  would 
bring  equilibrium  —  that  is,  no  movement  at  all.  The 
more  difficult  task  is  to  secure  harmonious  action,  in 
due  proportion,  without  friction  —  in  other  words,  to 
give  to  political  organs  an  organic  instead  of  a  mechani- 
cal activity.  The  principle  of  responsibility  fulfills  this 
purpose;  it  allows  freedom  with  control.  There  is  no 
fear  whatever  that  there  will  be  abuses  of  power,  no 


284  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

matter  how  great,  in  law  and  theory,  the  power  may  be, 
if  there  is  responsibility.  Every  public  man  dreads  re- 
sponsibility and  it  is  the  mark  of  a  great  statesman  to 
step  forward  and  assume  it  bravely  when  the  occasion 
demands.  The  best  critics  of  the  English  Constitution 
agree  that  its  weakness  is  in  the  lack  of  independence  in 
the  executive.  Ministers  who  have  to  face  Parliament 
are  only  too  anxious  to  do  nothing  which  they  can  help, 
and  to  accomplish  what  they  do  accomplish,  not  as  they 
think  it  ought  to  be  done,  but  so  as  to  hold  their  majority 
together.  The  principle  of  a  strong  executive,  held  to 
strict  responsibility,  may  be  set  down  as  the  great  gain 
of  the  last  century  in  the  science  of  politics;  it  is 
essential  to  the  good  government  of  a  great  nation 
with  complicated  interests. 

The  initiative  in  legislative  matters  belongs  to  indi- 
vidual representatives,  but  it  is  best  exercised  by  the 
executive.  The  executive  as  the  permanent  part  of  the 
government,  charged  with  its  administration,  acquires 
familiarity  with  its  workings,  its  excellencies,  its  faults, 
and  its  needs.  This  department,  therefore,  is  in  the 
best  position  to  prepare  and  lay  before  the  legislature 
measures  which  shall  be  well  drafted  and  correctly 
adapted  to  what  is  needed.  Where  individual  members 
introduce  bills  as  their  whims  or  their  vanity  dictates, 
instances  of  crude  and  incoherent  legislation  continu- 
ally occur.  An  executive  cannot  be  expected  to  give 
very  efficient  administration  to  laws  which  he  disapproves 
or  whose  mischievous  action  he  sees,  and  he  cannot  be 
held  responsible  for  legislation  about  which  he  was  never 
consulted  or  which  he  has  resisted.  All  this  has  especial 
reference  to  the  financial  administration,  which  can 
never  combine  efficiency  with  economy  unless  the  repu- 
tation of  those  who  have  the  immediate  control  of  it  is 


RESPONSIBLE  GOVERNMENT  285 

at  stake  to  bring  about  that  combination.  If  your  ships 
of  war  go  to  the  bottom  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  tells 
you  that  he  spent  all  the  money  Congress  would  give 
him,  and  that  they  did  not  give  him  what  he  wanted;  if 
extravagant  sums  are  spent  on  the  navy,  you  are  told 
that  Congress  ^appropriated  and  ordered  it.  But  if  you 
try  to  vent  your  disapproval  on  Congress,  you  find  that 
you  are  dealing  with  a  body  for  whom  responsibility  has 
no  meaning.  Can  you  search  for  the  votes.''  Can  you 
find  out  who  was  to  blame.''  Can  you  go  to  committee- 
room  deliberations  to  search  for  the  real  parties  in  fault? 
Can  you  reach  any  Congressman  but  your  own  repre- 
sentative.'' Will  changing  your  party  satisfy  your  desire 
to  disapprove.''  It  is  these  difficulties  which  render 
responsibility  unknown  to  us.  It  is  only  when  you  con- 
fer on  a  man  power  to  do  something  that  you  can  bring 
reward  or  blame  home  to  him  when  the  thing  is  done 
well  or  ill;  and  it  is  only  when  you  bring  blame  home 
to  a  man  that  you  can  inflict  consequences  which  bear 
upon  the  future. 

Some  critics  of  responsible  government  have  said  that 
everybody  was  responsible  to  everybody  else  throughout 
the  whole  system  but  that  there  was  no  starting  point, 
or  point  of  reaction,  for  the  whole.  This  is,  in  fact,  its 
great  merit.  There  is  no  irresponsible  authority  or  ar- 
bitrary power  in  it;  it  embodies  the  idea  which  the  old 
writers  were  trying  to  express  in  their  theory  of  checks 
and  balances.  The  true  system  of  self-government  for 
a  nation  comes  nearest  to  self-government  in  a  man; 
the  man  who  governs  himself  must  find  the  resources 
for  reform,  resolution,  and  self-control  in  himself,  and  the 
great  system  of  responsible  self-government  in  a  nation 
is,  in  like  manner,  only  a  part  of  the  national  life  with 
its  springs,  motives,  and  forces  in  the  nation  itself.     The 


286  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

analogy  with  a  machine  is  false;    the  true  analogy  is 
with  organic  life. 

To  sum  up,  then,  the  suggestions  which  I  have 
endeavored  to  make:  there  is  no  absolutely  "best" 
system  of  government;  democracy  is  grounded  in  the  cir- 
cumstances of  this  country  and  has  been  so  suited  to  the 
people  and  their  needs  that  no  other  system  has  been 
possible;  democracy  is  only  available  as  a  political  sys- 
tem in  the  simple  society  of  a  new  country  —  it  is  not 
adequate  for  a  great  nation;  we  have  reached  a  point 
at  which  its  faults  and  imperfections  are  mischievous, 
and,  in  the  growth  and  advance  of  the  nation,  these  evils 
must  become  continually  more  apparent;  the  remedy 
will  lie  in  a  greater  division  of  labor  and  higher  organi- 
zation, produced  by  such  modifications  as  are  germane 
to  our  popular  feelings  and  prejudices  and  consistent 
with  our  history;  they  will  consist  in  conservative  in- 
stitutions, and  the  first  of  these  will  be  a  body  of  states- 
men or  public  men  trained  to  their  work;  and  further 
development  will  consist  in  a  well  organized  system  of 
government,  held  within  due  limits  and  harmonious 
action  by  responsibility  to  the  representatives  of  the 
people  and  to  the  people  themselves. 


ADVANCING  SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL 
ORGANIZATION  IN  THE  UNITED   STATES 


ADVANCING   SOCIAL  AND   POLITICAL   OR- 
GANIZATION IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

[1896  OR  1897] 

Colonial  society;  embryonic  society.  —  American  history  disproves  the  notion 
of  the  "Boon  of  Nature,  etc."  —  Movement  of  American  history  away 
from  anarchistic  liberty.  —  Colonial  industrial  organization  the  slightest 
possible.  —  No  employer  and  employee  or  other  classes.  —  Social  organi- 
zation was  characterized  by  equality  and  democracy.  —  But  there  were 
modiScations  of  democracy:  1.  Aristocratic  distinctions,  so  far  as  pos- 
sible; 2.  Distinctions  by  talent  and  industry;  3.  Slavery.  —  Summary 
of  points  about  democracy  and  classes. —  Colonial  society  furnishes  a 
test  of  the  village  community  notion.  —  No  society  of  free  and 
independent  tillers  only.  —  Analysis  of  democracy;  definition  of  its 
varieties.  —  Aristocracy  of  slavery.  —  Jacobinism  and  sansculottism. 
—  The  Constitution-makers  and  democracy.  —  Sense  of  radical  and 
conservative  in  America.  —  Upper  classes  and  political  duty.  —  Signifi- 
cance of  organization.  —  Advantages  of  a  new  country.  —  The  escape 
from  tradition.  —  No  manors.  —  Agriculture  and  land  tenure  in  the 
colonies.  —  The  town  and  township.  —  Extension  of  loyalty  from  town 
to  province,  then  to  Union.  —  The  advancing  civil  organization.  — 
Disruptive  forces.  —  Anarchistic  liberty;  it  is  limited  in  towns  by  un- 
popularity and  gossip.  —  Character  produced  by  anarchistic  hberty.  — 
Character  produced  by  great  chances  of  wealth.  —  Liberty  due  to  freedom 
from  powerful  neighbors.  —  Merits  of  the  quarrel  with  England,  176S- 
1775.  —  Effects  of  disorganization  in  the  Revolution.  —  Effects  of  disor- 
ganization imder  the  Confederation.  —  Constitution  unwelcome;  why?  — 
Grand  extension  of  discipline  and  reign  of  law.  —  How  the  federal  govern- 
ment took  the  place  of  Great  Britain.  —  It  had  to  deal  with  the  same 
anarchistic  elements.  —  Necessity  that  these  should  be  overcome.  —  The 
work  of  the  Federal  party.  —  The  course  of  the  Jeffersonians.  —  The 
Supreme  Court  has  helped  the  integration.  —  Police  were  needed  in  cities 
to  uphold  the  authority  of  law.  —  Survival  of  Revolutionary  delusions  in 
the  Civil  War.  —  Latest  phenomena  of  those  delusions.  —  Combination 
of  the  different  stages  of  organization  in  the  United  States  now.  —  Lievi- 
tableness  of  struggle  for  mastery  in  the  Union.  —  The  future  will  see 
condensation  of  the  organization.  —  Advantage  of  rapidity  of  growth.  — 
Institutions  in  the  Constitution.  —  War  between  democracy  and  institu- 


290  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tions.  —  Compromise  between  them.  —  The  contemporaneous  transfer 
of  power  to  the  masses  with  civil  liberty,  in  the  place  of  anarchistic 
liberty.  —  Reasons  for  the  power  of  democracy.  —  Economic  causes 
of  the  present  social  and  political  revolution.  —  This  has  given  power 
and  chances  to  the  masses.  —  Decline  of  representative  institutions.  — 
Risks  of  high  organization.  —  Prophets  are  either  optimists  or  alarmists. 
—  Error  of  optimists.  —  Error  of  alarmists. 

The  fact  which  gives  chief  value  to  the  study  of  the 
early  history  of  the  United  States  is  that  in  it  we  can 
see  a  society  begin  from  its  earliest  germ  and  can  follow 
its  growth.  It  is  a  case  of  an  embryo  society,  not  how- 
ever of  savages  but  of  civilized  men.  They  came  armed 
with  the  best  knowledge  and  ability  which  men,  up  to 
the  time  of  their  migration,  had  won.  They  began 
with  the  laws,  customs,  institutions,  arts,  and  sciences 
of  their  mother-country  at  the  time,  and  of  course  they 
tried  to  imitate  the  social  organization  in  which  they 
had  been  brought  up.  This  they  did  not  do,  however, 
without  some  variations,  for  they  had  notions  of  their 
own  about  government,  religion,  and  social  order.  The 
emigrants  were,  in  many  cases,  the  radicals  of  their 
time  and  in  coming  to  America  they  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity to  try  to  realize  some  of  their  pet  ideas. 

Very  soon  also  it  became  apparent  that  transplanted 
institutions  and  customs  must  undergo  change.  Under 
changed  physical  and  social  circumstances  the  social 
relations  alter  and  the  social  organization  is  forced  to 
adapt  itself.  That  is  what  happened  here;  and  it  is 
the  perception  and  appreciation  of  such  changes,  in 
their  causes  and  nature,  which  is  one  of  the  chief  objects 
to  be  sought  in  the  study  of  our  colonial  history.  It  is 
often  said  that  this  colonial  history  is  dull  and  insipid, 
and  so  it  is  if  you  look  only  at  the  magnitude  and  com- 
plication of  the  events  or  the  grade  of  the  passions  at 
play  and  the  interests  at  stake.     It  is  from  the  point  of 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA   291 

view  which  I  have  just  indicated  and  in  the  study  of  the 
facts  which  I  have  described  that  that  history  wins  very 
high  philosophical  importance  and  presents  elements  to 
the  student  of  society  which  he  can  find  nowhere  else; 
for  later  colonial  enterprises  have  been  undertaken  with 
the  help  of  steam  and  constant  communication  between 
the  colony  and  the  mother-country,  and  so  under  condi- 
tions of  less  complete  isolation.  Our  colonies  consisted 
of  little  groups,  thrown  on  the  coast  of  this  continent 
and  left  to  find  out  how  to  carry  on  the  struggle  for 
existence  here,  in  ignorance  of  the  geography,  the  cli- 
mate, and  other  most  essential  facts,  with  very  little 
capital,  and  with  only  the  most  imperfect  connection 
with  the  mother-country  from  which  they  must  expect 
help  and  reinforcements.  It  is,  however,  just  this 
isolation,  with  the  necessity  of  self -adjustment  to  the 
conditions,  which  gives  interest  and  value  to  the  story 
of  the  colonies  as  social  experiments.  It  is  a  fact  of 
more  importance  than  the  story  of  dynasties  and  wars 
that  not  a  single  permanent  settlement  could  be  made 
on  the  territory  now  occupied  by  the  United  States 
until  more  than  a  hundred  years  after  Columbus  dis- 
covered America;  for  it  is  a  fact  which  at  once  proves 
the  folly  of  the  notion  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
"boon  of  nature,"  or  that  "land"  is  a  free  gift  from 
nature  of  a  thing  useful  to  man.  Why  did  a  hundred 
men  perish  miserably  when  trying,  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  to  found  a  settlement  on  territory  where  now 
seventy  million  live  in  prosperity.'^  It  was  because 
nature  offers,  not  a  boon  but  a  battle;  not  a  gift  but 
a  task;  and  those  men,  with  the  means  they  possessed, 
were  not  competent  for  the  task  or  able  to  win  the 
battle.  Although  the  settlements  at  Jamestown,  Plym- 
outh, and  Massachusetts  Bay  did  not  perish,  the  story 


«92  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

of  their  first  years  shows  with  what  toil,  pain,  and 
risk  a  foothold  could  be  won  for  beginning  the  struggle 
for  existence  here.  It  is  anything  but  a  picture  of  men 
quietly  walking  in  to  take  their  places  at  the  "banquet 
of  life,"  bounteously  and  gratuitously  offered  by  nature. 

But  from  the  social  germ  planted  by  these  colonists 
all  that  we  have  and  are  has  grown  up  by  expansion, 
adaptation,  absorption  of  new  elements,  death  or 
abolition  of  old  ones  —  in  short,  by  all  the  working  and 
fighting,  suffering  and  erring  which  go  into  the  life  of  a 
big,  ambitious,  and  vigorous  society. 

In  following  out  this  conception  of  American  history 
we  shall  find  that  it  presents  a  very  remarkable  con- 
trast to  the  history  of  modern  Europe.  In  the  latter 
the  movement  which  runs  through  the  history  is  one  of 
advancing  organization,  attended  by  an  extension  soci- 
ally, industrially,  and  politically,  of  individual  liberty; 
in  the  United  States,  however,  while  the  social  organi- 
zation has  advanced  with  gigantic  strides,  it  has  been 
attended  by  restrictions  of  individual  liberty.  Here  I 
use  the  word  "liberty"  in  its  anarchistic  sense  of  ex- 
emption from  restraint,  and  not  in  its  legal  and  insti- 
tutional sense.  While  the  progress  of  time  has  brought 
in  Europe  the  abolition  of  minute  and  vexatious  restric- 
tions upon  individual  self-determination,  in  the  United 
States  it  has  increased  the  number  of  laws,  customs,  and 
usages  which,  extending  over  all  departments  of  social 
activity  except  religion,  interfere  with  the  freedom  of 
individual  action.  This  is  one  of  the  penalties  of  high 
organization.  If  as  a  member  of  a  great  and  strong 
organization  you  win  advantages,  you  must  pay  for 
them  by  conformity  and  co-operation  within  the  organi- 
zation; but  these  will  limit  your  individual  liberty. 
If  we  bear  in  mind  this  contrast  between  American  and 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA  293 

European  history,  it  will  help  to  explain  many  apparent 
contradictions  in  their  philosophy  which  may  perplex 
us  when  studying  them  side  by  side.  All  that  I  have 
yet  to  say  will  further  expound  and  develop  this  contrast. 
We  shall  also  find  another  and  most  remarkable  fact 
of  American  social  history  in  this:  that,  while  the  lines 
of  the  social  organization  have  been  more  strictly 
drawn  and  the  social  discipline  has  been  steadily  made 
more  stringent,  there  have  been  new  and  other  develop- 
ments of  individual  activity  which  have  far  more  than 
offset  the  loss  of  the  eariier  rude  and,  in  truth,  barbaric 
liberty. 

A  very  amusing  incident  is  mentioned  in  Winthrop's 
history  of  New  England.^  A  land-owner  hired  a  man 
to  work  for  him,  but,  not  being  able  to  pay  the  stipu- 
lated wages,  he  gave  the  man  a  pair  of  oxen  and  dis- 
charged him.  The  laborer  asked  to  go  on  with  their 
relation.  "How  shall  I  pay  you?"  said  the  employer. 
"With  more  oxen,"  replied  the  man.  "But  when  the 
oxen  are  all  gone?"  "Then  you  can  work  for  me  and 
earn  them  back  again."  There  is  in  this  story  a  whole 
volume  of  demonstration  of  the  social  relations  of  that 
time  and  that  society.  We  can  see  that  the  relation  of 
employer  and  employee  was,  under  then-existing  cir- 
cumstances, impossible;  when  land  was  available  in 
unlimited  amount,  how  could  one  man  be  land-owner 
and  another  laborer?  Why  should  not  the  latter  go  on 
a  little  further  and  become  another  land-owner?  The 
two  would  then  be  alike  and  equal. ^  If,  however,  one 
of  them  worked  for  the  other,  what  wages  would  he 

'  n,  220;  compare  Coxe's  Carolina  emigrants  who  became  herdsmen  b^ 
cause  poor;  their  servants  became  rich. 

«  Franklin's  Works,  IV,  19,  24,  171;   II,  475. 


294  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

demand?  Evidently  as  much  as  he  could  gain  by  taking 
up  land  and  working  for  himself.  But  this  would  equal 
all  that  he  could  produce  as  a  laborer  for  another  or 
all  that  his  employer's  land  could  produce,  so  far  as 
it  occupied  one  man's  labor.  Hence  the  laborer  and 
the  employer  could  only  exchange  places  and  impov- 
erish each  other  alternately;  and  so  no  wages  system 
was  possible.  For  the  same  reason  no  complete  wages 
system  exists  yet.  Where  increased  human  power  was 
required  in  the  colonies,  it  must  be  got  by  free  co-ope- 
ration, as  in  log-rolling  and  barn-raising.  But  this 
means  that  there  was  no  industrial  organization.  All 
were  farmers;  ministers,  teachers,  merchants,  mechanics, 
sailors  carried  on  other  occupations  only  incidentally; 
all  owned  land  and  drew  their  subsistence  in  a  large 
proportion  directly  from  land.  It  was  far  down  in  the 
eighteenth  century  before  mechanics,  sailors,  merchants, 
lawyers,  and  doctors  were  differentiated  as  distinct  and 
independent  classes  of  persons.  Thus  in  a  century 
and  a  half  or  two  centuries  there  has  grown  up  here 
all  this  vast  and  complicated  industrial  organization 
which  we  now  see,  with  its  hundreds  of  occupations, 
its  enormous  plant  and  apparatus  of  all  kinds,  con- 
nected throughout  by  mutual  relations  of  dependence, 
kept  in  order  by  punctuality  and  trustworthiness  in 
the  fulfillment  of  engagements,  dependent  upon  as- 
sumptions that  men  will  act  in  a  certain  way  and 
want  certain  things,  and,  in  spite  of  its  intricacy  and 
complication,  working  to  supply  our  wants  with  such 
smoothness  and  harmony  that  most  people  are  un- 
aware of  its  existence.  They  live  in  it  as  they  do  in 
the  atmosphere. 

I  shall  return  to  this  point  in  a  moment  and  try  to 
show  the  commanding  significance  of  this  fact  that  we 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA   295 

all  earn  our  living  in  and  as  parts  of  a  great  industrial 
organization;  and  indeed  the  purpose  of  this  entire 
essay  will  be  to  try  to  get  some  due  appreciation  of  the 
whole  social  and  political  organization,  especially  in  its 
advancing  phases,  and  of  its  dominion  over  us  and  our 
interests.  But  we  have  not  yet  quite  exhausted  all  the 
significance  of  the  incident  which  I  mentioned  at  the 
outset.  We  see  from  it  that  not  even  the  simplest  class 
distinctions,  those  of  employer  and  employee,  were 
possible  here  at  that  time.  No  man  could  gain  any- 
thing by  owning  more  land  than  he  could  till;  the 
people  who  got  grants  of  land  made  disagreeable  experi- 
ence of  the  truth  of  this.  Because  land  was  the  best 
property  a  man  could  own  in  England,  and  ten  thousand 
acres  was  a  great  estate  there,  they  supposed  that  a 
man  who  got  a  grant  of  ten  thousand  acres  in  America 
got  a  great  fortune,  whereas  in  reality  he  got  only  a 
chance  to  sink  a  fortune  without  hope  of  return.  As 
there  could  be  no  landlord,  there  could  be  no  tenant; 
no  man  would  hire  another's  land  when  he  could  get 
land  of  his  own  for  the  labor  of  reducing  it  to  tillage. 
Now  landlords,  tenant-farmers,  and  laborers  are  the 
three  groups  which  form  the  fundamental  framework 
of  a  class-divided  society;  but  if  they  are  all  merged  in 
a  class  of  peasant-proprietors  or  yeomen-farmers,  there 
is  absolutely  no  class  organization.  All  are  equal,  by 
the  facts  of  the  case,  as  neariy  as  human  beings  can  be 
equal. ^  A  farmer  tilling  as  much  land  as  his  own  labor 
will  suflBce  to  cultivate  never  can  accumulate  a  fortune 
in  the  midst  of  a  society  of  others  just  like  himself. 
Neither  need  any  one  of  them  lack  subsistence  for  him- 
self and  family.     His  children  are  not  a  burden  but  a 

^  St.  Jean  de  Cr^vecoeur,  Lettres  d'un  Cultivateur  Am6ricam,  Paris,  1787, 
I,  267. 


296  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

help;  they  offer  the  only  aid  which  he  can  hope  for,  since 
the  relation  of  hire  is  impossible.  If  his  sons,  as  they 
grow  up,  go  off  and  take  up  land  of  their  own,  it  is  an 
advantage  to  him  to  have  many  sons,  that  the  series 
may  last  as  long  as  his  own  working  years.  If  the 
minister  and  schoolmaster,  as  the  only  representatives 
of  the  professional  classes,  live  amongst  these  farmers 
in  the  same  way  and  on  the  same  scale,  and  if  the  mer- 
chants of  the  commercial  towns  are  few  and  their  gains 
are  slow  and  small,^  there  result  just  such  common- 
wealths as  existed  in  the  northern  colonies.  The 
people  of  a  town  all  club  together  to  support  a  school 
for  their  children  and  a  "common  school  system"  is 
born  unawares.  It  is  plain  that  equality  is  the  pre- 
vailing characteristic  of  this  society;  its  members  are 
equal  in  fortune,  in  education,  in  descent  (at  least  after 
a  generation  or  two),  in  mode  of  life,  in  social  standing, 
in  range  of  ideas,  in  political  importance,  and  in  every- 
thing else  which  is  social,  and  nobody  made  them  so. 
Such  a  society  was  what  we  call  democratic,  using  the 
word  in  reference  to  the  institutions,  ideas,  customs,  and 
mores  existing  in  it,  and  without  reference  to  politics. 
It  was  made  so,  not  by  any  resolutions  or  constitutions, 
but  by  the  existing  economic  circumstances,  of  which 
the  most  important  was  the  ratio  of  the  population  to 
the  land.  Nobody  could  have  made  the  communities 
otherwise  than  democratic  under  the  existing  circum- 
stances under  which  the  struggle  for  existence  was 
carried  on. 

The  picture  of  colonial   society   which  I  have  just 

^  The  West  India  trade  was  a  great  source  of  wealth  at  Hartford.  Three 
persons  there,  in  1775,  were  said  to  be  worth  about  $80,000  each.  EUnman, 
R.  R.,  A  Historical  Collection  ...  of  the  Part  sustained  by  Conn,  during  the 
War  of  the  Revolution,  Hartford,  1842,  p.  15. 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA  297 

drawn  is  the  one  which  is  generally  presented  and  it 
may  be  familiar  to  the  reader.  In  order  to  render  it 
truthful,  however,  it  is  necessary  at  once  to  add  some 
very  important  modifications. 

In  the  first  place,  the  English  traditions  and  prejudices 
which  had  been  inherited  were  distinctly  aristocratic 
and  the  pet  notions  and  doctrines  of  the  colonists  were 
not  those  of  equality.  If  any  man  had  anything  to 
pride  himself  on  as  a  distinction,  he  made  the  most  of 
it,  as  neariy  all  men  everywhere  have  done;  and  if 
the  distinction  was  one  of  relationship  to  people  of 
social  importance  in  England,  it  was  quite  tenaciously 
nourished.  Social  distinction,  however,  if  we  may 
trust  some  reports,  cost  a  man  political  ostracism.  St. 
Jean  de  Crevecoeur  ^  says  that  the  richest  man  in 
Connecticut  in  1770  was  worth  about  $60,000;  but  he 
could  not  be  elected  to  any  office,  and  with  difficulty 
obtained  for  his  son  a  position  as  teacher  in  a  Latin 
school  in  order  to  keep  him  in  and  of  the  people. 

Then  again,  the  innate  and  utteriy  inevitable  inequal- 
ity of  men  in  industry,  energy,  enterprise,  shrewdness, 
and  so  on,  quickly  differentiated  these  yeomen-farmers. 
Some  families  kept  up  the  industrial  virtues  for  gene- 
rations; others  manifested  a  lack  of  them.  There 
were  social  failures  then  as  there  are  always.  Most 
of  them  "went  West,"  choosing  an  avenue  of  escape 
whose  immense  importance  in  the  whole  social  his- 
tory of  this  country  must  not  for  a  moment  be  lost 
sight  of;  but  we  hear  also  of  shiftless,  lawless,  and 
vagabond  people  who  lived  on  the  mountains  or  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town,  given  to  drink,  quarreling,  and 
petty  thieving.  This  phenomenon  warns  us  that  the 
pleasing  picture  of   an  Arcadian   simplicity,   equality, 

1  L.  c.  I,  242. 


298  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

and  uniformity,  such  as  has  often  been  applied  to  our 
colonial  society,  is  unreal.  It  is  impossible  in  human 
nature.  Put  a  group  of  men  in  equal  circumstances, 
under  wide  and  easy  conditions,  and  instead  of  getting 
equal,  uniform,  and  purely  happy  results,  you  will  get 
a  differentiation  in  which  some  will  sink  to  misery,  vice, 
and  pauperism. 

Yet  again,  when  considering  inequality,  we  must 
remember  the  existence  of  slavery  in  this  society;  of 
that  I  will  speak  presently  in  another  connection. 

We  must,  therefore,  understand  that  the  notion  of  our 
colonies  as  pure  and  ideal  democracies  is  unhistorical. 
While  broad  features  might  seem  to  justify  it,  the 
details,  in  which  lie  all  the  truth  and  reality,  greatly 
modify  the  picture. 

But  there  is  a  wider  aspect  of  this  matter  and  one 
which,  so  far  as  I  know,  has  never  been  noticed  at  all. 
I  cannot  find  anywhere  in  history  any  case  of  a  society 
of  free  and  equal  men  consisting  exclusively  of  inde- 
pendent tillers  of  the  soil.  We  are  forced  to  ask  whether 
such  a  thing  is  a  social  impossibility.  A  notion  has  had 
wide  currency  within  the  last  thirty  years  that  "village 
communities"  are  a  stage  of  primitive  democratic 
organization  through  which  most  modern  civilized 
societies  have  passed.  That  there  have  been  villages 
which  were  organized  for  industrial  and  social  purposes 
is  as  certain  as  that  there  have  been  states;  but  the 
"village  community"  has  been  personified  and  elevated 
to  the  rank,  not  of  a  social  organization  expedient  for  a 
purpose,  but  of  an  independent  organism,  something 
more  than  a  society  although  less  than  an  intelligent 
being.  Hence  it  has  been  made  to  appear  that  the 
breaking  up  of  village  communities  was  not  the  abandon- 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA  299 

ing  of  an  organization  which  was  no  longer  useful,  but 
was  the  killing  of  something  of  an  exalted  and  ideal 
character.  This  is  all  mythology.  It  is  impossible  to 
find  any  village  community  which  was  ever  anything 
more  than  a  group  of  people  who  were  trying  to  get 
their  living  out  of  the  ground  as  well  as  they  could  under 
the  circumstances  in  which  they  found  themselves. 
That  is  just  what  we  are  doing  now.  The  most  peculiar 
features  of  the  village  community  were  dictated  by  envy 
and  jealousy,  lest  one  man  should  be  better  off  than 
another,  and  the  chief  lesson  the  study  of  them  enforces 
is  that  when  laws  and  customs  are  made  with  a  view 
to  equality  they  crush  out  progress. 

But  the  point  to  which  I  wish  now  to  call  attention 
especially  is  even  stronger  if  we  assume  that  village 
communities  were  once  such  ideal  societies,  with  vig- 
orous and  healthy  forces  inside  of  them;  if  they  ever 
consisted  of  free  and  equal  men,  standing  sturdily  to- 
gether, working  industriously,  sharing  fairly,  maintain- 
ing rights  and  justice  of  which  they  had  a  clear  and 
natural  apprehension,  making  every  man  do  his  duty, 
letting  no  man  encroach  upon  another,  and  resisting  all 
oppression  from  without.  For  the  question  then  is: 
If  any  territory  ever  was  occupied  by  such  units,  why 
did  they  sink  into  serfdom?  The  things  which  are 
strong  vindicate  their  strength  by  their  resistance  and 
their  achievements;  it  will  not  do,  therefore,  to  say  that 
the  village  communities  were  overridden  by  force; 
what  is  claimed  for  them  is  that  they  contained  the 
most  powerful  and  persistent  social  forces  which  can  be 
called  into  play.  All  western  Europe  was  feudalized 
and  its  cultivators  of  the  soil  were  reduced  to  serfdom. 
Scandinavia  was  only  partially  feudalized,  but  it  illus- 
trates the  point  even  better,  because  we  can  follow  the 


800  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

reduction  of  free  peasants  as  far  down  as  they  went 
towards  serfdom,  and  we  know  that  it  was  not  their 
own  energy  of  resistance  which  kept  them  from  go- 
ing lower.  Furthermore,  all  over  Europe  among  the 
peasant-tillers  of  the  soil,  while  they  were  free  yeomen 
(if  they  ever  were  so),  there  were  slaves.  These  were 
owned  by  the  freeholders.  But  if  the  yeomen  were 
themselves  slaveholders,  their  society  is  excluded  from 
my  proposition,  for  the  society  does  not  then  consist 
of  free  and  equal  tillers  of  the  soil  alone. 

I  wish  to  bring  into  connection  with  this  another  fact 
which  may  seem  at  first  to  lie  far  removed  from  it. 
In  stages  of  half -civilization  where  tillage  is  just  be- 
ginning we  find  that  the  tillers  are  ruled  by  warlike 
nomads.  This  relation  has  been  found  all  over  the 
globe;  especially  where  the  tillers  occupy  a  fertile  plain 
below  steppes  or  mountain  slopes,  the  latter  are  in- 
habited by  wild  and  wandering  tribes  which  periodically 
descend  into  the  plains  to  rob  and  plunder  or  levy 
tribute.  A  large  part  of  Africa  has  long  presented  this 
state  of  things.  It  is  evident  that  the  settled  tillers 
unlearn  the  arts  of  war,  for  they  want  peace,  order, 
regularity.  They  must  spend  great  labor  on  permanent 
works  of  construction  and  irrigation  which  are,  how- 
ever, at  the  mercy  of  an  invader.  The  nomads  are 
warlike  and  have  greater  physical  power;  they  either 
make  periodical  raids  or  they  compromise  for  a  regular 
tribute.  Great  states  have  grown  in  the  course  of 
time  out  of  this  latter  relation,  the  ruling  nomads 
becoming  the  nobles  and  the  tillers  the  peasantry  or 
serfs.  The  first  of  these  stages  shows  us  militarism 
and  industrialism  in  conflict;  the  second  shows  us  the 
two  combined  and  adjusted  in  a  great  state.  This 
antagonism  of  militarism  and  industrialism  is  the  most 


ADV.\XCIXG  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA  301 

important  thread  of  philosophy  which  can  be  run  through 
history. 

Here,  then,  is  a  startling  phenomenon  and  a  problem 
for  the  sociologist  to  elucidate.  Does  the  tiller  of  the 
soil  gravitate  to  servitude  by  some  inherent  necessity.'* 
There  are  no  peasant-proprietors  now  in  Europe  who 
are  not  maintained  by  arbitrary  operation  of  law. 
"VNTiole  schools  of  social  philosophy  have  taken  up  the 
notion  that  peasant-proprietors  are  fine  things  to  have 
and  that  they  must  be  got  or  produced  at  any  price  in 
the  old  countries.  It  is  not  my  intention  now  to  discuss 
the  problem  thus  raised,  but  I  hasten  to  bring  what  I 
have  said  to  bear  on  the  subject  before  us.  We  see  why 
it  is  interesting  and  important  to  ask  whether  the 
American  colonies  do  present  an  exceptional  case  of 
what  we  are  looking  for,  m'z.,  a  society  consisting  ex- 
clusively of  free  and  equal  tillers  of  the  soil.  To  this 
the  answer  is  that  they  do  not.  They  used  slaves; 
the  great  need  of  an  organization  of  labor  by  which 
combined  effort  could  be  brought  to  bear  was  what 
caused  the  introduction  of  slavery.  We  have  positive 
testimony  from  the  colonial  period  that  the  practical 
reason  for  slavery  was  that  without  it  laborers  could  not 
be  induced  to  go  and  stay  where  the  work  was  to  be 
done,  especially  in  remote  districts.  Slavery,  of  course, 
became  developed  and  estabhshed  more  and  more  to  the 
southward,  as  those  districts  were  reached  whose  prod- 
ucts—  tobacco,  rice,  and  indigo  —  could  be  cultivated 
only  on  a  large  scale  by  a  great  organization  of  labor, 
many  laborers  being  combined  under  one  overseer.  In 
the  northern  states,  when  slavery  was  abolished,  towns 
had  grown  up,  professional  classes  had  begun  to  be 
formed,  artisans  and  merchants  constituted  distinct 
classes,  and  the  whole  social  organization  had  become 


302  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

so  complex  that  the  simple  society  consisting  exclu- 
sively of  tillers  of  the  soil  was  not  to  be  sought  there. 
It  is  true  that  our  new  states  have,  within  a  hundred 
years,  come  nearer  to  presenting  us  that  phenomenon 
than  any  other  communities  ever  have;  but  then  again 
it  is  to  be  remembered  that  they  are  parts  in  a  world- 
wide organization  of  industry  and  commerce  and  are 
not  any  longer  distinct  communities. 

In  the  course  of  my  remarks  on  the  last  point,  I 
have  touched  upon  the  case  of  slavery  in  the  South.  It 
has  often  been  said  that  slavery  in  the  South  was  an 
aristocratic  institution.  Aristocratic  and  democratic 
are  indeed  currently  used  as  distinctly  antagonistic  to 
each  other,  but  whether  they  are  so  or  not  depends 
upon  the  sense  in  which  each  of  them  is  taken,  for  they 
are  words  of  very  shifting  and  uncertain  definition. 
It  is  aristocratic  to  measure  men  and  scale  oflF  their 
social  relations  by  birth;  it  is  democratic  to  deny  the 
validity  of  such  distinctions  and  to  weigh  men  by  their 
merits  and  achievements  without  regard  to  other 
standards.  In  this  sense,  however,  democracy  will  not 
have  anything  to  do  with  equality,  for  if  you  measure 
men  by  what  they  are  and  do,  you  will  find  them  any- 
thing but  equal.  This  form  of  democracy,  therefore, 
is  equivalent  to  aristocracy  in  the  next  sense.  For, 
second,  aristocracy  means  inequahty  and  the  social  and 
political  superiority  of  some  to  others,  while  democracy 
means  social  and  political  equality  in  value  and  power. 
But  no  man  ever  yet  asserted  that  "all  men  are  equal," 
meaning  what  he  said.  Although  he  said,  "all  men," 
he  had  in  mind  some  limitation  of  the  group  he  was 
talking  about.  Thus,  if  you  had  asked  Thomas  JefiFerson, 
when  he  was  writing  the  first  paragraph  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  whether  in  *'all  men"  he  meant 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA  303 

to  include  negroes,  he  would  have  said  that  he  was  not 
talking  about  negroes.  Ask  anybody  who  says  it  now 
whether  he  means  to  include  foreigners  —  Russian 
Jews,  Hungarians,  Italians  —  and  he  will  draw  his  line 
somewhere.  The  law  of  the  United  States  draws  it  at 
Chinamen.  If  you  should  meet  with  a  man  who  should 
say,  as  I  would,  although  I  do  not  believe  that  all  men 
are  equal  in  any  sense,  that  such  laws  are  unjust  and 
that  all  men  ought  to  have  an  equal  chance  to  do  the 
best  they  can  for  themselves  on  earth,  then  you  might 
ask  him  whether  he  thought  that  Bushmen,  Hottentots, 
or  Australians  were  equal  to  the  best-educated  and  most 
cultivated  white  men.  He  would  have  to  admit  that 
he  was  not  thinking  of  them  at  all.  Now,  if  we  draw 
any  line  at  all,  the  dogma  is  ruined.  If  you  say:  "All 
men  are  equal  except  some  who  are  not,"  you  must 
admit  tests  and  standards  and  you  are  like  the  aristo- 
crats, only  that  they  may  have  other  standards  than 
yours  and  may  draw  the  line  around  a  smaller  group. 
Furthermore  if  you  define  a  group  and  then  say  that 
all  are  equal  within  it,  that  is  pure  aristocracy;  all 
peers  are  equal  —  that  is  what  their  name  denotes. 
School-boys  learn  from  their  Greek  books  enthusiasm 
for  Greek  democracy,  but  in  the  height  of  Athenian 
glory  there  were  four  slaves  for  every  Athenian  freeman 
and  "democracy"  meant  the  equality  of  these  latter  in 
exploiting  the  emoluments  of  the  Athenian  state.  This 
brings  us  to  the  case  of  our  Southern  slaveholders.  It 
was  not  a  paradox  that  the  great  Virginians  were  slave- 
holders and  great  democrats  too;  the  paradox  is  in 
the  use  of  the  words,  for  we  see  that  the  terms  dis- 
solve into  each  other.  Before  you  know  which  you 
are  talking  about,  it  is  the  other.  The  Southern  demo- 
crats drew  their  line  between  white  and  black,  but  they 


804  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

aflSrmed  the  equality  of  all  whites,  that  is,  of  all  who 
were  in  the  ring.  This  made  them  great  popular  leaders 
—  of  whites.  If  we  should  repeal  our  naturalization 
laws,  admit  no  more  immigrants  to  citizenship,  restrict- 
ing political  power  to  those  now  here  and  letting  them 
and  their  descendants  possess  it  by  universal  manhood 
suffrage,  we  should  create  a  democratic-aristocracy  in 
a  generation  or  two.  Hence  it  is  clear  that  a  demo- 
cratic-aristocracy is  not  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

So  far  then,  we  see,  I  think,  that  democracy  in  the 
sense  of  political  equality  for  the  members  of  the  ruling 
race  was  produced  in  the  colonies  out  of  the  necessities 
and  circumstances  of  the  case.  No  convention  ever 
decreed  it  or  chose  it.  It  existed  in  the  sense  of  social 
equality  long  before  it  was  recognized  and  employed  as 
a  guiding  principle  in  institutions  and  laws;  its  strength 
in  the  latter  is  due  to  the  fact  that  it  is  rooted  and 
grounded  in  economic  facts.  The  current  popular 
notion  that  we  have  democratic  institutions  because 
the  men  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  wise  enough 
to  choose  and  create  them  is  entirely  erroneous.  We 
have  not  made  America;  America  has  made  us.  There 
is,  indeed,  a  constant  reaction  between  the  environ- 
ment and  the  ideas  of  the  people;  the  ideas  turn  into 
dogmas  and  pet  notions,  which  in  their  turn  are  applied 
to  the  environment.  What  effect  they  have,  however, 
except  to  produce  confusion,  error,  mischief,  and  loss 
is  a  very  serious  question.  The  current  of  our  age  has 
been  entirely  in  favor  of  the  notion  that  a  convention 
to  amend  the  Constitution  can  make  any  kind  of  a 
state  or  society  which  we  may  choose  as  an  ideal.  That 
is  a  great  delusion,  but  it  is  one  of  the  leading  social 
faiths  of  the  present  time. 

I  turned  aside  from  the  second  sense  of  aristocracy 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    305 

and  democracy  to  show  how  the  distinction  applied  to 
the  case  of  our  southern  colonies.  It  will  be  an  economy 
of  time  if  I  now  return  to  that  analysis  before  going 
further.  Aristocracy  means  etymologically  the  rule 
of  the  best.  Cicero^  says:  "Certe  in  optimorum  con- 
siliis  posita  est  civitatum  salus."  If  there  were  any 
way  of  finding  out  who  are  the  best  and  of  keeping 
them  such  in  spite  of  the  temptations  of  power,  we 
might  accept  this  dictum.  In  practice  aristocracy 
always  means  the  rule  of  the  few.  Democracy  means 
the  rule  of  the  many;  in  practice  it  always  means  the 
rule  of  a  numerical  majority.  A  dogma  has  been  made 
out  of  this  and  it  has  been  affirmed  that  the  majority 
has  a  right  to  rule  in  a  sense  as  absolute  as  that  in  which 
the  divine  right  of  kings  was  formeriy  laid  down.  It 
has  been  asserted  that  the  majority  had  a  right  to 
misrule,  to  waste  money,  to  perpetrate  injustice,  and  so 
on,  if  such  was  its  good  pleasure.  This  doctrine  is 
democratic  absolutism  and  it  is  as  slavish  and  false  as 
any  doctrine  of  royal  absolutism.  In  the  working  of 
majority  rule  it  always  degenerates  into  oligarchy; 
a  majority  of  a  majority  is  endowed  with  power,  in  one 
sub-division  after  another,  until  at  last  a  few  control. 
On  the  other  hand,  many  cases  can  be  found  in  history 
where  an  aristocracy  has  applied  majority  rule  inside 
of  itself  with  a  dogmatic  absoluteness  surpassing  that 
of  democracy  itself. 

The  degenerate  form  of  democracy,  when  it  runs 
out  into  an  oligarchy  or  when  it  is  entirely  unregulated 
by  constitutional  provisions,  is  often  designated  as 
jacobinism.  It  is  the  rule  of  a  clique,  arrogating  to 
itself  the  name  of  the  people  or  the  right  to  act  for  the 
people.     It  is  the  inevitable  outcome  of  any  form  of 

^  De  Republics,  I,  S4. 


306  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

democracy  which  is  not  restrained  and  regulated  by 
institutions.  A  still  more  excessive  degeneration  of 
democracy  is  sansculottism.  As  a  political  form  this 
is  the  rule  of  a  street  mob;  as  a  philosophy  it  is  hatred 
of  all  which  is  elegant,  elevated,  cultured,  and  refined. 
It  stamps  with  rage  and  contempt  on  everything  which 
is  traditionally  regarded  as  noble,  praiseworthy,  and 
admirable  and  it  embraces  with  eagerness  whatever  is 
regarded  by  tradition  as  foul,  base,  and  vulgar. 

Returning  now  from  this  more  philosophical  analysis, 
which  seemed  necessary  to  a  full  understanding  of  terms, 
let  us  come  back  to  the  historical  aspect  of  our  subject. 
It  does  not  appear  that  anybody  paid  any  attention  to 
the  first  paragraph  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
when  it  was  written  or  that  anybody  except  Thomas 
Paine  then  held  to  the  dogmas  of  democracy.  The  men 
of  that  generation  were  all  afraid  of  what  they  always 
called  unbridled  democracy.  The  disturbances  of  pub- 
lic order  between  1783  and  1787  greatly  intensified  this 
fear,  so  that  the  Constitution-makers  were  not  in  a 
mood  for  any  pure  democracy.  A  few  of  them  held 
to  the  system  of  political  maxims  which  simply  ex- 
pressed the  satisfaction  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people 
with  the  loose  political  and  social  organization  which 
had  existed  up  to  that  time;  but  these  men  had  very 
little  influence  on  the  result.  The  Constitution  of  1787 
is  also  remarkable,  considering  the  time  at  which  it 
was  framed,  for  containing  no  dogmatic  utterances 
about  liberty  and  equality  and  no  enunciation  of  great 
principles.  Indeed  this  was  made  a  ground  of  com- 
plaint against  it  by  the  leaders  of  the  popular  party; 
they  missed  the  dogmatic  utterances  to  which  they  had 
become  accustomed  during  the  war  and  they  forced 
the  passage  of  the  first  ten  amendments.     Even  then. 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    307 

however,  the  Constitution  contained  no  declaration  of 
rights,  but  was  simply  a  working  system  of  government 
which  was  constituted  out  of  institutions  and  laws 
already  operating  and  familiar.  In  the  one  or  two 
points  in  which  the  Constitution-makers  endeavored  to 
devise  something  new  and  clever  with  which  to  avert 
an  apprehended  danger,  as  for  instance  in  the  case  of 
the  Electoral  College,  their  wisdom  has  all  been  set  at 
naught.  It  is  noticeable  that  this  was  a  safeguard 
against  democracy.  In  another  case,  when  they  set 
no  limit  to  the  number  of  re-elections  which  a  president 
might  obtain,  the  democratic  temper  of  the  country 
has  forced  an  unwritten  law  limiting  the  terms  to  two. 
Here  I  should  like  to  point  out  a  confirmation  of  one 
thing  which  I  said  at  the  outset,  that  the  direction  of 
political  movement  in  this  country  and  in  Europe  has 
been  opposite.  According  to  European  usage,  which 
has  become  current  here  also,  we  should  want  to  call 
the  Anti-federalists  radicals,  and  we  should  call  Hamil- 
ton, Madison,  and  the  other  advocates  of  the  new 
Constitution  conservatives.  But  if  conservative  means 
clinging  to  the  old  and  if  radical  means  favoring  change 
and  innovation,  then  the  Anti-federalists  were  the 
conservatives  and  the  Federalists  were  radicals. 

There  are  people  amongst  us  who  are  thrown  into  a 
flutter  of  indignation  by  the  suggestion  that  there  are 
any  classes  in  our  American  society,  yet  from  time  to 
time  we  hear  blame  cast  upon  the  educated  and  property 
classes  for  not  taking  a  due  share  in  politics.  The 
existence  of  some  class  dijfferentiation  is  then  recognized. 
Democracy  is  in  general  and  by  its  principles  jealous 
of  the  interference  of  any  who  are  distinguished  from 
the  mass  by  anything  whatever;  as  soon  as  anybody  is 
distinguished  in  any  way  he  ceases  to  be  one  of  the 


308  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

people.  We  hear  the  word  "people"  used  in  this  way 
all  the  time  and  we  know  that  it  means,  not  the  popula- 
tion but  some  part  of  the  population  which  is  hard  to 
define  but  which,  I  think,  means  the  mass  with  all  the 
distinguished  ones  taken  out.  This  is  another  recogni- 
tion of  class.  Now  it  is  part  of  the  system  of  theoretical 
or  dogmatic  democracy  to  hold  that  wisdom  is  with  the 
people  in  the  sense  just  defined.  They  are  said  to  know; 
they  judge  rightly;  they  perceive  the  truth;  if  we  trust 
them,  they  will  govern  aright.  Incidentally  scorn  is 
often  cast  on  the  sages  and  philosophers,  the  theorists 
and  bookworms  —  and  it  is  probably  for  the  most  part 
well-deserved;  but  the  implication  is  that  the  mass  of 
men  have  by  nature  and  common  sense  the  wisdom 
which  the  sages  and  philosophers  lack.  In  any  demo- 
cratic system,  therefore,  the  distinguished  classes  are 
kept  aloof  from  the  active  control.  There  is  nothing 
which  the  stump-orator,  ambitious  for  influence  and 
position,  more  energetically  disclaims  than  the  assump- 
tion that  he  is  any  better  qualified  to  teach  than  any  of 
his  audience;  he  anxiously  insists  that  he  is  only  a 
common  man  and  one  of  the  people.  This  is  the  great 
reason  why  civil  service  reform  has  never  won  wide 
popular  support  —  that  it  is  considered  undemocratic. 
It  is  so  because  it  assumes  that  some  men  are  more  fit 
and  capable  for  public  office  than  other  men  are.  Most 
of  the  time  we  give  office  to  people  whose  vanity  will  be 
gratified  by  it,  not  to  those  who  can  serve  us  in  the 
position.  Those  who  have  special  ability,  skill,  capital, 
or  knowledge  are  called  upon  in  emergencies  to  help 
us  out  of  difficulties,  but  they  are  watched  with  great 
jealousy  lest  they  get  a  notion  that  they  are  essential 
and  begin  to  assume  that  they  must  be  retained  and 
rewarded.     They  are  therefore  dismissed  again  as  soon 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    309 

as  possible  and  without  reward.  So  far  we  have  not 
got  many  of  them  to  accept  the  role  which  is  thus 
allotted  to  them,  and  although  we  scold  them  and  tell 
them  that  they  ought  to  carry  the  burdens,  do  the  work, 
and  take  the  blows  while  somebody  else  gets  the  glory 
and  the  pay,  we  do  not  seem  to  make  much  impression 
on  them.  As  a  class  they  turn  to  money-making  as  a 
far  more  pleasant  and  profitable  occupation. 

We  began  with  an  employer  and  an  employee  face  to 
face  with  each  other  and  we  have  been  brought  to  notice 
the  lack  of  industrial  organization  and  the  incongruity 
of  class  distinctions  in  the  colonial  days  on  account  of 
industrial  facts.  Already,  then,  we  begin  to  see  that 
the  conditions  of  the  existing  social  organization  are 
controlling  facts  for  the  welfare  and  interests  of  men. 
Let  us  try  to  realize  the  full  significance  of  this  obser- 
vation. We  can  perhaps  understand  it  better  now, 
having  begun  with  the  interpretation  of  a  concrete  case. 
Every  one  of  us  is  born  into  society,  that  is  to  say,  into 
some  form  and  kind  of  society  —  the  one  which  is 
existing  at  the  time  and  place;  we  must  live  our  lives 
in  that  society  under  the  conditions  which  its  constitu- 
tion and  modes  of  action  set  for  us.  We  can  imagine 
the  same  human  infant  taken  either  to  the  United 
States,  to  Russia,  to  Turkey,  to  China,  or  to  Central 
Africa,  and  it  is  plain  that  his  career  and  existence  would 
be  determined  in  its  direction,  modes,  and  possibilities 
by  the  one  of  those  societies  which  should  become  his 
social  environment.  It  is  equally  true,  although  not 
so  obvious  because  the  contrast  is  less  strong,  that  a 
man  could  not  be  and  become  in  Massachusetts  in  the 
seventeenth  or  the  eighteenth  century  what  he  can  be 
and  become  there  in  the  nineteenth.     The  social  organi- 


810  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

zation  is  produced  by  the  reaction  between  the  environ- 
ment and  the  society,  in  the  process  of  time.  At  any 
point  of  time  the  existing  social  organization  determines 
the  character  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people;  only  the 
elite  amongst  them  react  against  it  and  slowly  mold  it 
from  generation  to  generation.  The  social  organiza- 
tion existing  at  any  time  also  determines  the  character, 
range,  and  vitality  of  political  institutions;  it  determines 
what  ideas  can  take  root  and  grow  and  what  ones  fall 
unnoticed;  and  it  determines  the  ethical  doctrines 
which  are  accepted  and  acted  upon.  You  need  only 
compare  mediaeval  and  modern  society  to  see  how 
profoundly  true  this  is  at  every  point. 

The  social  organization  of  these  colonies  was  that  of  a 
new  country  and  a  young  society.  Its  first  advantage 
was  that  it  could  throw  off  all  the  traditions  of  the 
old  countries  which  it  did  not  like  and  retain  all  the 
knowledge,  arts,  and  sciences  which  it  wanted.  It  is 
one  of  the  commanding  facts  in  the  history  of  the  globe 
that  one  part  of  it  was  hidden  and  unknown  until  a 
very  late  day.  Men  living  on  the  part  which  they  did 
know  developed  civilization,  but  their  civilization  was 
mixed  up  with  all  the  errors  and  calamities  of  thousands 
of  years.  Then  they  found  a  new  world  to  which  they 
could  go,  carrying  what  they  wanted  out  of  all  which 
they  had  inherited  and  rejecting  what  they  did  not 
want.  They  undoubtedly  made  mistakes  in  their  selec- 
tion, because  human  error  is  ever  present  and  is  as 
enduring  as  humanity;  but  some  things  which  they 
brought  and  should  have  left  at  home  died  out  here 
under  the  influence  of  the  environment.  The  most 
remarkable  case  of  this  is  the  manor  system.  A  Euro- 
pean of  the  seventeenth  century  could  not  think  of 
society  outside  of  the  manor  system  and  we  see  manor 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    311 

ideas  and  institutions  imported  here  in  more  or  less 
definite  form;  but  they  all  shriveled  up  and  became 
obsolete  because  they  were  totally  unfit  for  a  society 
in  which  land  was  unlimited  and  civil  authority  ade- 
quate to  maintain  peace.  The  only  element  of  manor- 
making  which  was  at  work  here  was  the  lack  of  laborers. 
Serfdom  and  villainage  were  in  large  measure  due  to 
the  necessity  of  holding  the  laborer  to  the  spot  in  order 
that  tillage  might  be  carried  on.  In  this  country,  at 
least  in  the  northern  states,  slavery  was  due  to  the 
necessity  of  holding  the  laborer  to  the  spot  in  order 
that  tillage  might  go  on.^  Slavery,  therefore,  must  be 
regarded  as  a  product  of  some  of  the  same  conditions 
which  in  Europe  made  serfdom.  Plantations  took 
the  place  of  manors  in  the  South  and  yeoman  farms 
with  a  small  amount  of  slavery  took  the  place  of  them 
in  the  North.  This  difference  in  land  tenure  and 
agricultural  system  between  America  and  the  old 
countries,  which  was  foreseen  and  devised  by  no  man 
but  was  imposed  upon  the  colonists  by  the  facts  they 
had  to  deal  with,  became,  of  course,  the  cause  of  the 
greatest  differences  through  the  whole  social  organiza- 
tion. The  development  here  was  new,  fresh,  and 
original.  Slavery  appears  as  an  incongruous  element 
at  first;  as  the  population  increased  and  the  organiza- 
tion became  more  developed,  that  institution  was 
dropped  in  the  northern  states.  There  its  incongruity 
with  the  whole  social  system  and  the  ethical  ideas  of  a 
body  of  yeomen  tilling  their  own  soil  first  became 
apparent.  At  a  later  time,  by  the  progress  of  the 
arts,  slavery  became  dispensable  and  it  has  disappeared 
entirely.  With  its  cessation  it  seemed  that  every  ves- 
tige of  a  manor  system  or  analogy  to  it  had  vanished 

1  Franklin's  Works,  II.  314. 


312  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

from  the  land,  but  among  the  tentative  organizations 
of  labor  in  the  southern  states  at  the  present  time,  out 
of  which  some  new  and  suitable  system  for  the  condi- 
tions of  industry  there  existing  will  be  developed,  there 
is  a  kind  of  manor  system  with  labor  rents.  The  prob- 
lem of  land  tenure  and  of  the  agricultural  system  upon 
which  a  great  free  state  can  be  built  contains  difficulties 
and  mysteries  which  have  not  yet  even  been  defined; 
but  if  one  gets  near  enough  to  them  to  even  guess  at 
their  magnitude  and  difficulty,  he  sees  in  a  very  grotesque 
light  the  propositions  of  the  "single  tax"  and  of  state 
assumption  of  land.  In  our  colonies,  where  these  things 
shaped  themselves  with  the  greatest  freedom  to  suit 
the  welfare  of  the  settlers  themselves,  all  the  principles 
of  the  English  common  law  were  overridden,  so  that 
this  did  not  determine  the  result.  The  land  of  a  town 
was  originally  divided  equally  between  the  settlers 
because  all  shared  equally  in  the  risk  and  trouble  of 
settlement.  Small  estates  existed  because,  as  we  have 
seen,  there  was  no  object  in  owning  big  ones.  Equal 
division  of  estates  in  case  of  intestacy  was  introduced 
because,  if  primogeniture  had  been  retained,  younger 
sons  would  not  have  lived  and  worked  on  the  father's 
land.  Finally,  land  tenures  gradually  became  allodial.* 
But  an  allodial  tenure  is  the  utmost  private  property  in 
land  conceivable;  it  makes  of  every  freeholder  a  petty 
sovereign  on  his  domain.  We  can  plainly  see  that  no 
other  tenure  would  attract  and  hold  settlers  on  raw  land. 
The  so-called  unearned  increment  is  the  reward  of  the 
first  settler  who  meets  the  first  and  greatest  hardships 
incident  to  the  peopling  of  new  land.  Thus  we  see 
that  the  land  tenure  and  the  agricultural  system  were 

*  Originally  the  tenures  were  in  free  and  common  soccage.    These  are  so 
now  in  Pennsylvania.     In  every  other  state  they  are  allodial. 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    813 

fully  consonant  with  the  loose  industrial  organization 
and  the  democratic  social  organization  which  we  have 
already  noticed. 

The  settlements  were  made  in  little  groups  or  towns. 
No  civilized  people  have  ever  had  so  little  civil  organiza- 
tion as  the  colonial  towns  early  in  their  settlement;  there 
was  little  division  of  labor,  scarcely  any  civil  organi- 
zation at  all,  and  very  little  common  action.  Each 
town  was  at  the  same  time  a  land  company  and  an 
ecclesiastical  body,  and  its  organization  under  each  of 
these  heads  was  more  developed  than  in  its  civil  or 
political  aspect.  The  methods  of  managing  the  affairs 
of  a  land  company  or  a  congregation  were  those  of  the 
town  as  a  civil  body  also  and  the  different  forms  of 
organization  were  not  kept  distinct.  The  administra- 
tion of  justice  shows  the  confusion  most  distinctly:  all 
common  interests  were  dealt  with  by  the  one  common 
body  without  distinction  or  classification;  and  as  com- 
mittees for  executing  the  decisions  of  the  body  were 
the  most  obvious  and  convenient  device  for  execu- 
tive and  administrative  purposes,  we  find  that  device 
repeated  with  only  slight  variations. 

Attempts  have  been  made  to  endow  this  primitive 
system  with  some  peculiar  dignity  and  value.  People 
have  talked  of  "townships"  instead  of  towns.  When- 
ever the  abstract  is  thus  put  for  the  concrete,  our  sus- 
picions of  myth-making  should  always  be  aroused. 
A  town  was  a  number  of  people  living  in  a  neighborhood 
and  co-operating  for  common  interests  as  convenience 
required;  a  township  could  be  endowed  with  life  and 
functions  and  could  be  made,  by  myth,  into  a  force  or 
sort  of  ruling  providence.  This  township  has  been 
connected  with  so-called  village-communities  which  we 
have  seen  to  be  another  case  of  myth.     The  utility  of 


314  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

the  study  of  the  New  England  towns  is,  in  part,  in  the 
critical  light  which  is  thrown  on  the  whole  notion  of 
village-communities  as  it  has  become  current  in  our 
literature.  The  New  England  towns  certainly  lacked 
the  communal  element;  religious  sympathy  was  the 
strongest  associative  principle  there  was  in  them,  but 
otherwise  the  sentiment  was  strongly  individualistic. 
They  were  also  so  utterly  loose  in  their  ties,  and  the 
internal  cohesion  was  so  slight,  that  they  never  exer- 
cised that  educating  and  formative  influence  which 
peasant  villages  in  Europe,  having  through  centuries 
retained  the  same  institutions  and  customs,  undoubt- 
edly did  exercise.  In  the  South,  where  the  plantation 
system  existed,  not  even  these  nuclei  of  social  organiza- 
tion were  formed.  Thus  the  whole  of  this  country, 
until  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  presented 
the  picture  of  the  loosest  and  most  scattered  human 
society  which  is  consistent  with  civilization  at  all,  and 
there  were  not  lacking  phenomena  of  a  positive  decline 
of  civilization  and  gravitation  towards  the  life  of  the 
Indians.  Political  organization  scarcely  existed  and 
civil  organization  was  but  slight.  Later  generations 
have  condemned  and  ridiculed  the  religious  bigotry  of 
the  colonists  with  its  attendant  religious  persecution 
and  the  political  ostracism  of  all  but  the  ruling  sect; 
but  if  this  strong  religious  sympathy  had  not  existed, 
what  associative  principle  would  they  have  had  to  hold 
them  together  and  build  up  a  civil  society? 

I  have  said  that  the  picture  presented  by  the  settle- 
ments in  this  country  until  the  beginning  of  the  eight- 
eenth century  was  that  of  little  groups  of  farmers 
scattered  along  the  coast  and  rivers,  forming  towns 
under  the  loosest  possible  organization.  Names  such 
as  Massachusetts,  Connecticut,  were  used  then  to  cover 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    315 

areas  very  great  as  compared  with  the  amount  of  land 
under  cultivation.  Those  names  had  very  little  mean- 
ing to  the  people  of  that  time,  for  life  and  its  interests 
were  bounded  by  the  town.  Only  in  the  eighteenth 
century  can  we  see  the  horizon  extend  so  that  the 
province  grows  to  be  the  real  civil  unit  and  grows  into 
a  real  commonwealth;  the  process  was  slow,  however, 
and  for  the  most  part  unwilling.  In  the  nineteenth 
century  the  conception  of  the  national  and  civil  unit 
has  expanded  so  that  our  sense  of  nationality  cleaves  to 
the  Union  as  a  great  confederated  state.  This  advance 
in  the  feeling  of  the  people  as  to  what  the  country  to 
which  they  belong  is,  and  what  that  is  which  is  the 
object  of  patriotism,  is  one  of  the  interesting  develop- 
ments of  our  history.  The  merging  of  the  town  into  the 
state  and  of  the  state  into  the  United  States  has  been 
brought  about  by  the  increase  of  population,  the  filling 
up  of  the  country,  the  multiplication  of  interests  reach- 
ing out  all  over  it  and  grappling  the  people  together. 
The  bonds  are  those  of  kin,  of  industry  and  commerce, 
of  religion  through  the  various  denominations  and 
churches,  of  common  pursuits  in  education,  science,  and 
art,  and  of  associations  for  various  purposes  of  culture 
or  pleasure.  This  is  what  we  mean  by  the  advancing 
social  organization.  It  unites  us  into  a  whole;  it  forms 
us  into  a  society;  it  gives  us  sentiments  of  association 
and  co-operation.  Our  states,  instead  of  being  separate 
bodies  united  only  by  neighborhood  and  alliance,  are 
formed  into  one  body  with  nerves  running  through  it; 
and  it  is  by  virtue  of  these  nerves,  that  is,  of  the  lines  of 
common  feeling  and  interest  which  I  have  mentioned, 
that  a  touch  at  one  point  brings  out  a  reaction  from 
the  whole. 
There  are  other  causes  which  are  always  at  work  in 


316  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

the  contrary  direction.  They  are  the  forces  of  discord 
and  divergent  interest.  In  a  state  of  seventy  million 
people  scattered  over  a  continent  the  forces  of  disruption 
are  always  at  work.  The  great  social  organization  all 
the  time  tends  to  promote  a  great  political  organiza- 
tion; as  the  interests  multiply  and  become  complex, 
there  is  a  call  for  federal  legislation  in  order  to  get 
uniformity,  e.g.y  as  to  marriage,  divorce,  bankruptcy. 
The  laws  also  get  extensions  from  use  and  new  applica- 
tion, the  effects  of  which  in  a  few  years  amaze  us  by  their 
magnitude  and  importance,  as,  for  example,  the  Inter- 
state Commerce  Law.  Now  all  this  extension,  system- 
atization,  and  uniformity-making  produces  symmetry, 
order,  and  elegance,  but  it  goes  with  the  old  terror  of 
our  statesmen  —  consolidation.  It  is  making  of  us  a 
great  empire.  Few  people,  even  of  those  who  have 
lived  through  it,  seem  to  notice  the  great  change  which 
has  come  over  our  federal  system  since  the  Civil  War. 
The  most  important  alteration  is  that  in  the  feeling  of 
the  people  about  what  sort  of  a  government  there  is  at 
Washington  —  what  it  is  and  what  it  can  do.  Young 
people  should  understand  that  the  indescribable  sense 
and  feeling  about  that  question,  which  we  carry  with 
us  now,  is  totally  different  from  the  sentiments  of  our 
fathers  between  1850  and  1860.  Now  there  is  a  danger 
in  centralization.  A  big  system  never  can  fit  exactly 
at  more  than  a  few  places,  if  at  any;  elsewhere  it  strains 
a  little  in  its  adaptation  and  it  may  strain  very  much. 
If  it  does,  we  shall  hear  an  outcry  of  distress  and  it  may 
be  of  anger  and  revolt,  for  the  movement  to  higher 
organization  means  a  movement  away  from  liberty, 
and  is  always  attended  by  irritation  until  men  become 
habituated  to  the  constraint  of  the  organization  and 
realize  its  benefits.     In  the  course  of  our  history  this 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    317 

has  been  fully  illustrated.  Every  step  of  the  way  up 
to  the  present  system  which,  I  think,  we  regard  almost 
unanimously  as  an  advance  and  a  gain,  as  we  look 
back  upon  it,  has  been  contested.  The  advancing 
organization  draws  together  and  consolidates,  provided 
its  action  is  not  so  abrupt  and  harsh  as  to  provoke 
rebellion  and  disruption.  In  every  case  it  produces  a 
more  prompt  civil  reaction.  By  this  we  mean  that 
there  is  a  more  prompt  obedience  to  authority,  greater 
punctuality  in  the  performance  of  legal  duties,  and 
greater  exactitude  in  the  co-operation  of  institutions 
and  persons  who  are  called  upon  by  the  civil  authority 
to  perform  civil  functions  for  the  good  of  the  state. 
This  means  greater  discipline  and  less  liberty. 

Here  I  use  the  word  "liberty"  in  its  primary  sense: 
a  status  in  which  there  are  no  restraints  on  the  self- 
determination  of  the  individual.  That  liberty  is,  of 
course,  never  more  than  relative,  for  there  are  restraints 
wherever  there  are  any  institutions,  customs,  or  laws 
at  all.  Therefore  this  kind  of  liberty,  if  an  attempt  is 
made  to  realize  it  against  laws  and  institutions,  is 
anarchistic.  I  shall  refer  to  it  sometimes  in  speaking 
of  the  later  history  as  anarchistic  liberty. 

No  men  on  earth  have  ever  been  as  free  to  do  as 
they  pleased  as  these  American  colonists  were.  Savage 
men  are  not  free  to  do  as  they  please  and  may  be  dis- 
missed from  comparison;  civilized  men  in  the  Old 
World  were  born  into  a  society  already  old;  here,  how- 
ever, were  civilized  men  who,  after  they  had  secured  a 
footing,  were  limited  by  the  very  least  restraint  of  any 
kind  which  can  exist  in  human  life.  The  fetters  which 
they  laid  on  themselves  in  accordance  with  their  religious 
dogmas  were  no  doubt  a  good  thing,  for  otherwise  there 
would  have  been  no  discipline  at  all,  and  for  human 


318  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

welfare  liberty  and  discipline  need  to  be  duly  combined. 
In  fact,  the  colonists,  after  two  or  three  generations, 
threw  off  the  puritanical  restraints  only  too  much. 

Liberty  had  its  cause  and  its  enduring  guarantee  in 
the  circumstances  of  the  case.  If  a  man  lives  alone  in 
the  middle  of  a  farm  of  one  hundred  acres,  what  he 
does  there  will  make  little  difference  to  his  neighbors, 
each  living  in  the  same  way.  But  if  he  and  his  family 
live  in  a  tenement  house,  with  a  score  of  other  families, 
separated  only  by  thin  partitions  and  floors,  everything 
that  he  does  or  neglects  will  make  a  great  difference  to 
others.  Therefore  there  are  few  laws  made  by  the 
community  as  to  how  a  man  shall  behave  on  a  farm, 
whereas  there  are  strict  regulations  by  the  state,  the 
city,  and  the  landlord  as  to  how  people  shall  behave  in 
tenement  houses.  The  latter  regulations  are  no  proof 
of  meddlesomeness  and  officialism  —  they  are  a  necessity 
of  the  case.  On  the  other  hand,  the  "liberty"  of  colonial 
farmers  was  no  choice  of  theirs,  no  creation  of  law,  no 
proof  of  clearer  wisdom  than  that  of  Old- World  states- 
men —  it  was  a  necessity  of  the  case. 

In  one  respect,  indeed,  the  townsmen  of  a  colony 
lacked  liberty  —  for  in  no  case  and  in  no  sense  can  you 
find  absolute  liberty  on  this  earth;  that  is  an  anar- 
chistic dream.  The  public  opinion  of  a  town  was  an 
imperious  mistress;  Mrs.  Grundy  held  powerful  sway 
and  Gossip  was  her  prime  minister.  This  accounts 
for  the  remarkable  subserviency,  in  the  early  days  of 
this  country,  of  public  men  to  popularity.  Unpopu- 
larity in  a  town  or  petty  neighborhood  where  every- 
body knows  everybody  else  intimately  is  an  extreme 
social  penalty;  it  reaches  a  man  through  his  wife  and 
children  and  it  affects  him  in  all  his  important  interests 
and  relations.     It  was  a  powerful  coercive  force  here 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    319 

and  was,  as  far  as  it  went,  a  restraint  on  liberty. 
It  was  not,  however,  an  organizing  force,  and  its 
influence  does  not  contradict  the  observation  that  the 
organization  was  loose  and  slight. 

The  effect  of  this  great  liberty  on  both  the  virtues 
and  the  vices  of  colonial  character  was  clearly  marked. 
The  people  were  very  bold,  enterprising,  and  self-reli- 
ant; they  were  even  imprudent  in  their  enterprises; 
they  took  great  risks  because  the  trouble  and  cost  of 
precautions  were  great.  They  were  not  painstaking 
because  there  was  so  much  to  be  done  in  subduing  a 
continent  that  they  could  not  stop  to  be  careful; 
they  had  to  be  contented  with  expedients  and  to 
sacrifice  the  long  future  interest  to  the  immediate  one. 
It  would  have  been  unwise  and  wasteful  to  do  other- 
wise. They  were  also  very  versatile;  a  man  had  to 
be  a  jack-of-all-trades  because  there  was  no  elaborate 
industrial  organization.  They  also  took  things  very 
easily.  They  were  not  energetic;  they  could  with  ease 
get  enough  and  they  were  not  willing  to  work  very 
hard  to  get  a  little  more.  They  were  optimistic;  they 
went  on,  never  fearing  but  what  they  could  conquer 
any  diflSculties  they  might  meet  and  borrowing  very 
little  trouble.  Most  of  these  traits,  as  we  know, 
have  become  fixed  in  the  national  character.  As  a 
consequence,  the  colonists  were  divided  into  two  well- 
marked  types:  one  industrious  and  steady,  the  other 
shiftless  and  lazy.  There  were  very  few  avenues  to 
wealth  and  so  there  were  few  rewards  for  great  exer- 
tion. The  love  of  trading  was  due  to  the  fact  that  it 
offered  quicker  and  larger  gains  than  could  be  got 
from  tilling  the  ground.  It  is  the  opening  of  grand 
chances  of  exceptional  success  in  the  nineteenth  century 
which  has  wrought  a  great  transformation  in  the  na- 


320  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tional  character,  for  it  has  offered  rewards  for  excep- 
tional ability  and  exceptional  achievement  which  have 
stimulated  the  whole  population.  Here  is  a  fact  — 
and  it  is  one  of  the  most  salient  and  incontrovertible 
facts  in  our  own  history  —  which  shows  the  shallow- 
ness and  folly  of  a  great  deal  of  current  lamentation 
or  denunciation  of  the  accumulation  of  wealth.  If 
you  will  turn  to  European  history,  you  will  find  that 
the  moment  when  land  would  produce,  not  merely  a 
subsistence  for  those  who  tilled  it  but  also  a  profit, 
that  is,  the  moment  when  it  would  bear  rent,  is  the 
moment  when  the  modern  world  began  to  spring  into 
energetic  life.  Here  land  has  never  yet  borne  rent, 
but  transportation  rates  have  taken  the  place  of  rent 
and,  together  with  manufacturing  on  a  large  scale  and 
the  application  of  capital  to  develop  the  continent, 
have  opened  far  broader  avenues  of  profit  and  have 
offered  greater  prizes  than  land-rent  in  the  Old  World. 
It  is  these  chances  which  have  filled  the  population 
with  a  fever  of  energy  and  enterprise  and  enthused 
them  with  hope,  and  in  the  might  of  such  driving 
forces  they  have  done  marvellous  things.  It  is  true, 
as  the  French  proverb  says,  that  they  have  not  made 
omelettes  without  smashing  some  eggs;  and  we  have 
many  social  philosophers  who  are  crying  over  the  eggs. 
What  I  have  said  thus  far  of  liberty  has  referred 
to  individual  liberty.  Political  liberty  inside  of  any 
country  depends  very  largely  upon  its  external  rela- 
tions. The  great  force  for  forging  a  society  into  a 
solid  mass  has  always  been  war.  So  long  as  there 
were  Indians  to  be  fought,  and  so  long  as  the  Dutch 
were  in  New  York  or  the  French  in  Canada,  the 
colonies  had  a  foreign  policy;  they  had  enemies  at 
the  gates.     Such  a  state  of  things  forces  some  atten- 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    321 

tion  to  military  preparations.  The  state  must  make 
calls  on  its  citizens  for  money  and  for  military  ser- 
vices and  this  state-pressure  limits  political  liberty. 
After  the  French  were  driven  out  of  Canada  there 
was  a  great  change  in  this  respect:  there  was  nothing 
more  to  fear,  and  all  military  exercises,  being  regarded 
as  irksome,  were  almost  entirely  neglected.  Internal 
liberty  took  a  new  expansion.  In  the  prevailing  dull- 
ness of  colonial  life  one  of  the  chief  sports  had  been 
to  bait  the  colonial  governor;  and  the  colonists  now 
gave  themselves  up  to  this  diversion  with  greater  free- 
dom than  ever.  Internal  discord  involved  no  risk  of 
weakness  in  the  presence  of  a  neighboring  enemy. 
Note  well  that  those  people  are  easily  free  who  have 
no  powerful  neighbor  to  fear.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  that 
the  boundary  of  Russia  had  been  at  the  Mississippi 
River  and  that  she  had  been  meddling  with  us  in  the 
eighteenth  century  as  she  did  with  Sweden  and  Poland 
—  do  you  suppose  that  we  could  have  got  this  liberty 
which  our  historians  and  orators  talk  about?  If  not, 
then  you  may  be  sure  that  no  human  shrewdness  or 
wisdom  entailed  it  on  us  as  it  is,  but  that  it  was  born  of 
a  happy  conjuncture  of  circumstances. 

The  absence  of  powerful  neighbors  has  been  an  im- 
portant fact  in  all  our  later  history.  It  has  freed  us 
from  the  militarism  which  now  weighs  so  heavily  upon 
Europe  and  it  has  made  it  possible  for  us  to  develop  to 
its  highest  limit  a  purely  industrial  social  organization. 
It  is  true  that  the  Civil  War  with  its  debt,  taxation,  bad 
currency,  and  pension  burdens  has  made  us  acquainted 
with  some  of  the  burdens  of  militarism,  but  that  is  all 
our  own  fault;  by  virtue  of  the  lack  of  strong  neighbors 
we  had  a  right  to  be  free  from  it  if  we  had  been  wise 
enough  to  profit  by  the  advantages  of  our  situation. 


822  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

But  an  industrial  society  brings  to  bear  upon  its  mem- 
bers an  education  widely  different  from  that  of  a  mili- 
tary civilization;  the  codes  of  citizenship,  the  conception 
of  what  is  heroic,  the  standards  of  honor,  the  selection 
of  things  best  worth  working  for,  the  types  to  which 
admiration  is  due,  all  differ  in  the  two  systems.  Mili- 
tarism is  produced  by  a  constant  preoccupation  with 
the  chances  of  war  and  the  necessity  of  being  prepared 
for  it,  and  this  preoccupation  bars  the  way  when  people 
want  to  think  about  the  reform  of  institutions  or  the 
extension  of  popular  education  or  any  other  useful  social 
enterprise.  From  all  that  preoccupation  the  people  of 
this  country  have  been  free;  they  have  been  able  to  give 
their  attention  without  reserve  to  what  would  increase 
the  happiness  and  welfare  of  the  people. 

Let  us  sum  up  what  we  have  thus  far  gathered  from 
our  review  of  the  colonial  period.  We  have  seen  that 
the  division  of  labor  was  slight;  that  there  was  scarcely 
any  industrial  organization;  that,  if  slavery  be  left  out 
of  account,  there  was  but  little  differentiation  of  classes; 
that  the  social  ties,  even  before  religious  enthusiasm 
died  out,  were  very  few  and  narrow  and  strictly  local; 
that,  after  that  enthusiasm  died  out,  such  ties  scarcely 
existed  at  all;  that  the  horizon  of  life  was  the  town  and 
only  at  second  stage  the  province.  We  have  also  seen 
that  the  most  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  colonial 
society  were  the  equality  of  its  members  and  the  large 
liberty  of  self-will  enjoyed  by  individuals.  We  know 
that  the  separate  provinces  had  very  little  sympathy 
or  even  acquaintance  with  each  other;  at  one  time  and 
another,  under  the  influence  of  a  common  danger  from 
the  Indians  or  the  French,  a  feeble  thrill  of  common 
interest  ran  through  some  of  them,  but  it  never  proved 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    323 

strong  enough  to  unite  them.  These  social  and  political 
elements  were  the  inheritance  of  the  Union  from  the 
colonial  period. 

I  by  no  means  agree  with  the  current  histories  about 
the  facts  and  merits  of  the  quarrel  with  England  between 
1763  and  1775.  They  are  all  tinctured  with  alleged 
patriotism  and  the  serious  facts  of  the  case  are  some- 
times passed  over  in  silence.  The  behavior  of  the 
colonists  was  turbulent,  lawless,  and  in  many  cases 
indefensible;  and  the  grounds  on  which  they  based  their 
case  were  often  untenable  in  law  and  history  and  often 
inconsistent  with  each  other.  They  sought  these 
grounds  as  a  lawyer  seeks  grounds  on  which  to  argue 
his  case,  choosing  them,  that  is,  on  the  basis  of  whether 
they  will  make  more  for  him  than  against  him,  not 
whether  they  are  true  or  not.  The  principles  of  1774 
were  distinctly  anarchical  because  they  were  put  forward 
as  a  basis  of  continued  relation  to  Great  Britain  but 
were  inconsistent  with  that  relation.  Another  cause  of 
rebellion  which  was  very  strong  in  the  South,  although 
little  stress  is  laid  upon  it  in  history,  was  the  accumu- 
lated debt  to  British  merchants  which  it  was  hoped 
would  be  cancelled  by  war.  It  is  true  that  the  English 
colonial  policy  of  the  eighteenth  century  did  not  rise 
above  the  eighteenth-century  English  level,  which  from 
our  standpoint  was  base;  but  that  it  was  not  very  shock- 
ing to  eighteenth-century  Americans  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  they  never  fully,  clearly,  and  in  principle  re- 
volted against  the  Navigation  Act,  which  was  their 
greatest  grievance.  Even  as  to  taxation  the  Americans 
never  put  their  case  on  a  clear  and  intelligible  ground; 
they  talked  of  various  abuses  of  taxation,  but  they 
showed  that  they  would  not  consent  to  any  taxation. 
Adam  Smith,  taught  no  doubt  by  study  of  the  case  of 


324  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

our  colonies,  said:  "Plenty  of  good  land  and  liberty 
to  manage  their  own  affairs  in  their  own  way  seem  to 
be  the  two  great  causes  of  the  prosperity  of  all  new 
colonies."  ^  The  American  colonies  had  the  land  but 
not  the  liberty.  If  they  wanted  to  do  anything  which 
they  thought  expedient  for  their  own  interest  they  had 
to  send  to  England  for  permission.  Even  if  the  reply 
was  reasonably  prompt,  this  cost  a  year;  but  inasmuch 
as  applications  were  bandied  about,  neglected,  and 
forgotten,  in  spite  of  the  zeal  of  agents,  there  were  fetters 
laid  upon  colonial  development.  As  soon,  therefore,  as 
the  colonists  were  able  to  be  independent  and  dared  be 
independent,  it  was  necessary  that  they  should  be  so. 
That  is  the  cause  and  the  justification  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. The  rest  is  all  the  wrangling  about  rights,  dogmas, 
laws,  and  precedents  which  accompanies  every  revolu- 
tion. I  see  no  use  at  all  in  the  study  of  history  unless 
the  historian  is  absolutely  faithful  to  the  truth  of  the 
matter;  but  when,  in  a  moment,  my  reason  for  intro- 
ducing these  remarks  here  appears,  the  case  will  then 
serve  to  prove,  I  think,  how  much  more  the  truth  is 
worth  than  anything  else  is  worth  in  history. 

All  the  laxness  of  the  social  organization,  all  the  mis- 
chief of  what  has  been  called  church-steeple  patriotism, 
and  all  the  weakness  of  anarchistic  liberty  appeared 
most  distinctly  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  In  Con- 
gress, in  the  army  administration,  in  the  finances,  in 
the  medical  department,  the  faults  of  lack  of  organiza- 
tion were  conspicuous  and  their  consequences  were 
humiliating.  The  effects  of  lack  of  organization  'may 
be  summed  up  in  a  word:  such  a  lack  makes  it  impossi- 
ble to  bring  the  power  and  resources  of  the  community 
to  bear  on  the  task  in  hand.     That  is  what  was  proved 

»  Wealth  of  Nations,  II,  152. 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    325 

in  the  history  of  the  War.  In  the  meantime  the  bonds 
of  social  order  were  relaxed  on  every  side:  the  "com- 
mittees" accustomed  the  people  to  arbitrary  and  tyran- 
nical action;  the  cruel  and  wicked  persecution  of  the 
Tories  demoralized  the  Whigs;  the  corruption  of  the 
paper  money  produced  bitter  heart-burnings  and  dis- 
content; the  sudden  enrichment  of  a  few  by  privateering 
and  speculation  presented  an  irritating  phenomenon 
which  had  not  been  seen  before.  The  heated  declama- 
tion about  liberty  had  produced  vague  expectations  and 
hopes  which  were,  of  course,  disappointed;  and  all  this 
culminated  in  the  period  of  the  Confederation,  when 
it  seemed  to  some  that  the  whole  social  and  political 
fabric  was  falling  to  pieces.  There  was,  however,  a  great 
deal  of  jacobinism,  to  use  a  later  term,  the  adherents 
of  which  were  perfectly  satisfied  that  things  were  going 
in  the  right  direction. 

Now  if  we  do  not  know  these  facts  and  give  them 
their  due  weight,  how  are  we  to  appreciate  the  work  of 
the  Constitution-makers?  How  can  we  understand 
what  their  task  was,  what  diflSculties  they  had  to  over- 
come, what  the  grounds  were  of  the  opposition  which 
they  had  to  meet?  Everyone  knows  nowadays  that 
the  people  by  no  means  leaped  forward  to  grasp  this 
Constitution,  which  is  now  so  much  admired  and  loved, 
as  the  blessing  which  they  had  been  praying  for.  Why 
did  they  not?  To  put  it  in  the  briefest  compass,  the 
reason  why  not  was  this:  that  Constitution  was  an 
immense  advance  in  the  political  organization  at  a 
single  step.  It  made  a  real  union;  it  reduced  the 
independent  (I  avoid  the  word  "sovereign")  states  to 
a  status  of  some  limitation;  it  created  a  competent 
executive  —  one  who  could  govern,  not  influence  or 
persuade;    it  created  a  treasury  which  could  reach  the 


326  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

property  of  the  citizen  by  taxes,  not  by  begging;  it 
created  a  power  which  could  enforce  treaties.  Consider- 
ing the  anarchical  condition  of  things  and  the  wayward- 
ness and  irritation  of  the  public  temper,  it  is  amazing 
that  such  a  step  could  have  been  accomplished. 

Its  opponents  declared  that  the  new  Union  was  simply 
taking  the  place  which  Great  Britain  had  occupied; 
that  its  dominion  was  as  intolerable  as  hers  had  been; 
that  they  had  only  changed  masters  by  the  War.  Here 
is  the  point  at  which  we  need  to  recall  what  has  been 
said  about  the  attitude  and  behavior  of  the  colonists 
between  1763  and  1774.  If  this  is  done  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  allegation  about  the  Union  having  come  to 
occupy  the  position  which  Great  Britain  had  occupied 
was  true;  it  had  to  claim  what  she  had  claimed  and  to 
meet  with  the  same  insubordination  which  she  had 
met  with.  One  cause  of  quarrel  with  England  had  been 
the  regulation  of  commerce;  but  the  Constitution  had 
given  Congress  the  power  to  regulate  commerce  —  and 
we  are  still  quarrelling  about  what  this  power  means 
and  how  to  use  it.  Another  cause  of  quarrel  had  been 
over  the  legal-tender  paper  money,  which  Great  Britain 
had  tried  to  forbid;  but  the  Constitution  forbade  legal- 
tender  paper  money  to  the  states  and,  as  was  then 
believed,  to  the  Union  too.  It  forbade  the  states  to 
impair  the  obligation  of  contracts,  which  went  farther 
and  was  more  explicit  than  anything  Great  Britain  had 
done.  Where  England  had  been  very  careful  about 
coming  into  direct  contact  with  the  individual  citizen  in 
the  colonies,  the  Constitution  distinctly  and  avowedly 
brought  the  Union  into  contact  with  the  individual 
through  the  judiciary  and  through  indirect  internal 
taxes.  The  necessity  had  been  experienced  during  the 
War  of  frowning  down  any  partial  confederations  be- 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    327 

tween  less  than  the  whole  number  of  states,  but  pre- 
cisely by  so  doing  was  the  disapproval  of  England 
against  the  Stamp  Act  Congress  and  other  congresses 
justified.  The  state  governments  had  already  found  it 
necessary  to  use  measures  against  smuggling  like  those 
which  had  given  so  much  offence  when  used  by  Great 
Britain.  In  the  treaty  of  peace,  again,  which  the  federal 
government  was  now  authorized  to  enforce,  British 
creditors  were  ensured  the  use  of  the  courts  to  enforce 
payment.  Finally  in  the  matter  of  taxation  the  Union 
inherited  all  the  embarrassments  of  Great  Britain. 
The  states  had  shown  that  they  would  not  freely  consent 
to  any  import  duties  in  their  ports  for  the  federal  treas- 
ury; but  now  the  federal  government  had  power  to  lay 
and  collect  them  by  its  own  officers.  It  also  proceeded 
at  once  to  use  its  power  to  lay  excise  taxes,  and  when 
this  produced  a  rebellion,  it  put  down  the  rebellion  by 
armed  force  with  a  vigor  and  promptitude  far  surpass- 
ing anything  which  the  English  did,  even  during  the 
War.  In  the  trials  which  ensued  to  punish  the  violators 
of  law,  to  which  there  is  no  parallel  whatever  in  any- 
thing done  by  the  English  during  the  colonial  period, 
the  doctrine  was  laid  down  that  it  was  high  treason  to 
go  with  arms  to  the  house  of  an  administrative  officer 
of  the  law  with  intent  to  injure  his  property  or  otherwise 
intimidate  him  from  the  performance  of  his  duty.  But 
according  to  that  ruling  very  many  of  those  who  took 
part  in  the  Stamp  Act  riots  were  guilty  of  high  treason* 
Therefore,  to  sum  it  up,  the  doctrines  of  the  radical 
Whigs  were  now  the  doctrines  of  the  radical  Anti- 
federalists.  The  latter  claimed  with  truth  that  they 
were  consistent,  that  they  had  all  the  same  reason  to 
oppose  and  dread  the  Union  which  they  had  had  to  op- 
pose Great  Britain,  and  that  the  Union  had  inherited 


328  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

and  was  perpetuating  the  position  of  Great  Britain. 
It  became  a  current  expression  of  discontent  with  the 
federal  system,  of  which  you  hear  occasional  echoes 
even  now,  that  it  was  an  imitation  of  the  English  system 
invented  ai^d  fastened  on  the  country  by  Alexander 
Hamilton  —  and  this  was  rather  a  distortion  of  the 
true  facts  than  an  utter  falsehood. 

What,  then,  shall  we  infer  from  all  these  facts? 
Plainly  this:  that  the  Revolutionary  doctrines  were 
anarchistic,  and  inconsistent  with  peace  and  civil  order; 
that  they  were  riotous  and  extravagant;  and  that 
there  could  be  no  success  and  prosperity  here  until  a 
constitutional  civil  government  existed  which  could  put 
down  the  lawless  and  turbulent  spirit  and  discipline  the 
people  to  liberty  under  law.  This  is  the  position  which 
was  taken  by  the  Federal  party;  this  is  why  New 
England,  although  it  had  been  intensely  Whig,  became 
intensely  Federal.  The  people  knew  the  difference 
between  war  measures  and  peace  measures  and  they 
realized  the  necessity  of  tightening  again  the  bonds  of 
social  order.  This  is  also  why  the  Federal  party  was  so 
unpopular;  it  was  doing  a  most  useful  and  essential 
work,  but  it  is  never  popular  to  insist  upon  self-control, 
discipline,  and  healthful  regulation.  On  the  other 
hand  Jefferson  and  his  friends  always  prophesied  smooth 
things,  assuring  "the  people"  that  it  was  showing  the 
highest  political  wisdom  when  it  was  doing  as  it  had  a 
mind  to.  Their  doctrine  was  that  "the  people,"  that 
is,  all  the  population  except  the  educated  and  prop- 
erty classes,  knew  everything  without  finding  it  out 
or  being  aware  of  it,  and  distilled  from  votes  infallible 
wisdom  for  the  solution  of  political  problems,  although 
the  individuals  that  made  up  "the  people"  might  have 
no  wisdom  in  their  individual  heads.     Of  course  this 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    329 

was  popular;  men  are  delighted  to  hear  that  they  have 
all  rights  without  trouble  and  expense,  that  they  are 
wise  without  hard  experience  or  study,  and  that  they 
shall  have  power  without  being  put  to  any  trouble  to 
win  it.  The  Jeffersonians,  therefore,  preached  relaxa- 
tion, negligence,  and  ease,  while  the  Federalists  were 
working  for  security,  order,  constitutional  guarantees, 
and  institutions.  However,  when  the  Jeffersonians  got 
into  power,  the  conservatism  of  authority  got  possession 
of  them  and  they,  in  their  turn,  increased  the  federal 
power  and  developed  and  intensified  the  political  organi- 
zation. Perhaps  they  did  it  more  prudently,  wisely, 
and  successfully  than  the  Federalists  did,  just  because 
they  advocated  it  in  phrases  borrowed  from  the  old  pet 
doctrines  of  relaxation  and  undiscipline. 

I  shall  no  more  than  mention  the  development  of  the 
power  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  the  interpretation  of 
the  Constitution;  this  began  after  the  second  war  with 
England  and  was  a  powerful  influence  in  carrying  on 
the  development  and  integration  of  our  political  institu- 
tions. I  might  also  mention  the  introduction  of  police 
into  our  large  cities,  a  measure  which,  when  it  was  done, 
was  viewed  with  great  disfavor  by  the  friends  of 
liberty,  although  our  large  cities  had  been  disgraced 
by  frequent  riots,  and  the  dangerous  classes  in  them 
had  become  organized  and  were  almost  independent  of 
the  law. 

In  the  Civil  War  the  delusion  of  the  Southerners  was, 
in  large  part,  a  survival  of  the  old  anarchism  of  the 
Revolutionary  period.  All  the  jargon  of  Secession  is 
perpetuated  from  the  period  before  the  Revolution; 
the  genealogy  of  it,  down  through  the  resolutions  of 
'98  and  Nullification,  is  clear  and  indisputable.  It  is 
pitiful  to  see  with  what  sublime  good  faith  the  South- 


S30  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

erners  repeated  the  old  phrases  and  maxims;  they 
thought  that  they  were  enunciating  accepted  and 
indisputable  truths  and  evoking,  on  their  own  behalf, 
the  memories  of  our  heroic  age.  But  the  defeat  of  the 
South  in  the  War  has  not  meant  the  definitive  extrusion 
of  those  maxims  and  notions  from  our  political  system. 
If  we  do  not  wish  another  generation  to  grow  up  with 
another  set  of  delusions  to  be  cured  by  bloodshed,  it 
would  be  well  to  correct  the  stories  in  our  popular 
histories  about  the  Boston  Massacre  and  the  Boston 
Tea  Party  and  the  doctrine  about  "no  taxation  without 
representation,"  as  well  as  those  about  natural  rights  and 
the  equality  of  all  men.  It  is  by  no  means  true  that 
what  our  young  people  need  is  an  uncritical  patriotic 
inflation.  The  principles  of  '76  were:  (1)  revolution, 
because  there  was  a  revolution  on  hand  —  but  this 
principle  can  have  no  utility  or  applicability  until  there 
is  another  revolution  on  hand;  (2)  rebellion  against  the 
crown  of  England  and  secession  from  the  British  empire 
— but  this  principle,  as  we  have  found  by  experience,  was 
good  for  once  only,  when  the  causes  were  serious  enough 
to  justify  it;  (3)  independence  —  but  independence  is 
not  a  general  principle;  if  it  were,  it  would  require  a 
series  of  revolts  until  every  town  stood  by  itself.  The 
commonwealers  of  last  summer  built  their  whole  plat- 
form on  delusive  constructions  of  the  popular  dogmas 
of  liberty  and  on  phrases  of  historical  reference  to  the 
Revolution.  In  these  great  strike  riots  you  hear  echoes 
of  all  the  Fourth  of  July  sentiments  and  corollaries  of 
all  the  great  Revolutionary  principles.  They  are  all 
delusions  as  to  what  this  worid  is,  what  human  society 
is,  what  we  can  do  here.  The  uneducated  and  half- 
educated  men  who  utter  them  are  not  half  to  blame  for 
them.     They  have  been  taught  so;    they  have  caught 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    331 

up  catchwords  and  phrases;  and  now  they  are  con- 
verting these  into  maxims  of  action.  Such  delusions 
are  never  cured  without  much  pain  and  many  tears. 

When  we  gather  together  the  observations  we  have 
made,  showing  the  advance  of  the  entire  social  organiza- 
tion from  the  colonial  settlement  up  to  the  present 
time,  in  all  its  branches  —  the  industrial  system,  the 
relations  of  classes,  the  land  system,  the  civil  organiza- 
tion, and  the  organization  of  political  institutions  and 
liberty — we  see  that  it  has  been  a  life-process,  a  growth- 
process,  which  our  society  had  to  go  through  just  as 
inevitably  as  an  infant  after  birth  must  go  on  to  the 
stages  of  growth  and  experience  which  belong  to  all 
human  beings  as  such.  This  evolution  in  our  case  has 
not  been  homogeneous.  The  constant  extension  or 
settlement  into  the  open  territory  to  the  west  has  kept 
us  in  connection  with  forms  of  society  representing  the 
stages  through  which  the  older  parts  of  the  country 
have  already  passed.  We  could  find  to-day  vast  tracts 
of  territory  in  which  society  is  on  the  stage  of  organi- 
zation which  existed  along  the  Atlantic  coast  in  the 
seventeenth  century;  and  between  those  places  and  the 
densest  centers  of  population  in  the  East  we  could  find 
represented  every  intervening  stage  through  which  our 
society  has  passed  in  two  hundred  years.  This  combi- 
nation of  heterogeneous  stages  of  social  and  political 
organization  in  one  state  is  a  delicate  experiment;  they 
are  sure  to  contend  for  the  mastery  in  it,  and  that 
strife  threatens  disruption.  As  I  believe  that  this  view 
has  rarely  received  any  attention,  it  is  one  of  the 
chief  points  I  have  wished  to  make  in  surveying  the 
advance  of  social  and  political  organization  in  this 
country. 


882  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

The  Federalists  opposed  the  creation  of  frontier  states 
which  should  share,  on  an  equal  footing  in  some  respects, 
with  the  old  ones  in  the  federal  Union.  They  thought 
that  the  wishes,  tastes,  interests,  and  methods  of  the 
two  classes  of  states  would  be  inconsistent,  that  they 
would  clash,  and  that  the  things  which  the  old  states 
held  dear  would  be  imperilled.  This  view  afterwards 
became  a  subject  of  ridicule.  New  states  were  not  new 
very  long  before  they  became  old;  they  filled  up  with 
population,  acquired  capital,  multiplied  their  interests, 
and  became  conservative.  It  seemed  an  idle  and 
pedantic  notion  that  there  could  be  any  political  diffi- 
culty in  the  combination  of  new  and  old  states;  the  more 
we  got  in,  the  bigger  we  grew  —  and  that  was  the 
main  point.  Then  again  all  political  struggle  centered 
in  the  struggle  of  North  and  South  for  supremacy  in  the 
Union;  the  other  elements  which  were  included  in  the 
struggle  have  blinded  us  to  the  fact  that  that  was 
the  real  character  of  it  —  a  struggle  for  supremacy  in 
the  Union.  Just  as  certainly  as  you  have  a  unit-group 
inside  of  which  different  elements  can  be  differentiated, 
just  so  certainly  will  those  elements  strive  for  the 
mastery;  it  is  a  law  of  nature  and  is  inevitable.  In 
the  Constitutional  Convention  of  1787  the  one  great 
question  was:  If  we  have  a  union,  who  will  rule  in  it? 
It  was  not  until  equal  representation  in  the  Senate  was 
agreed  upon  that  union  became  possible.  Then  the 
great  division  was  between  large  states  and  small  ones. 
The  resolutions  of  '98,  by  Virginia  and  her  daughter, 
Kentucky,  were  aimed  at  a  Yankee  President  and  his 
supporters,  by  whom  Virginia  would  not  be  ruled.  As 
soon  as  the  system  was  in  full  operation,  the  alliance  of 
Virginia  and  New  York  attempted  to  control  it;  they 
threw  the  Federal  party  and  the  East  out  of  power. 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  A^IERICA    333 

upon  which  you  find  New  England  going  over  forthwith 
to  secession  and  disunion.  Then,  as  the  new  states 
came  in,  the  divisions  of  the  old  ones  sought  their 
alliance.  The  coalition  of  the  South  and  West  in  the 
'20's  could  not  be  consolidated  because  the  new  states 
came  in  so  fast.  The  slave  states  and  the  non-slave 
states  then  became  the  most  clear,  important,  and  posi- 
tive differentiation  there  was.  With  the  census  of  1840, 
however,  it  became  clear  that  the  slave  states  could 
not  retain  the  proportional  power  and  influence  which 
they  had  had  in  the  confederation;  and  it  was  their 
turn  to  become  disunionists.  Fifty  years  of  our  history 
have  gone  into  that  struggle,  for  it  is  not  more  than 
well  over  now.  Meanwhile  other  great  interests  have 
been  neglected  and  great  abuses  have  grown  up  un- 
noticed: war  taxation  and  war  currency  are  still  here 
to  plague  us.  Our  people  have  come  out  of  that  struggle 
with  a  great  confidence  that  nothing  can  ever  again  put 
the  Union  at  stake.  Let  us  not  make  that  error.  The 
Union  is  always  at  stake.  Instead  of  being  a  system 
which  can  stand  alone  and  bear  any  amount  of  abuse, 
it  is  one  of  great  delicacy  and  artificiality  which  re- 
quires the  highest  civic  virtues  and  the  wisest  states- 
manship to  preserve  it.  It  will  be  threatened  again 
whenever  there  is  a  well-defined  group  which  believes 
its  interests  jeopardized  inside  the  Union  and  under  the 
dominion  of  those  who  control  the  Union. 

At  the  point  which  we  have  now  reached  the  whole  con- 
tinent has  received  a  first  occupation  and  settlement; 
and  from  now  on  the  process  will  be  one  of  consolida- 
tion and  condensation.  This  will  raise  the  organiza- 
tion over  the  whole  country.  That  process  cannot  go 
on  too  rapidly  at  the  present  stage,  for  the  more  rapidly 
it  goes  on  the  quicker  it  will  tide  us  over  the  dangers 


3S4  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

in  which  we  find  ourselves  —  dangers  due  to  the  great 
dififerences  in  the  social  and  political  organization  which 
now  exist.  In  all  the  past  the  rapidity  of  our  growth  has 
been  one  of  our  best  safeguards;  no  state  of  things  has 
existed  long  enough  to  allow  people  to  understand  it, 
to  base  plans  upon  it,  and  to  carry  them  out,  before  the 
facts  have  all  changed  and  frustrated  all  the  plans. 
There  have  been  plenty  of  presidential  aspirants  in  the 
United  States  who  have  found  that  four  years  was  a 
long  time  to  bridge  over  with  combinations  based  upon 
the  assumption  that  circumstances  in  states  and  sections 
would  remain  that  long  unchanged. 

There  has  been,  however,  another  and  apparently 
contradictory  evolution  side  by  side  with  the  one  already 
mentioned,  and  it  is  the  combination  of  the  two  which 
has  given  to  our  history  its  unique  character.  The 
public  men  of  the  Revolutionary  period  were  not  demo- 
crats —  they  feared  democracy.  The  Constitution- 
makers  were  under  an  especial  dread  of  democracy, 
which  they  identified  with  the  anarchism  of  the  period 
of  1783-1787.  They  therefore  established  by  the  Con- 
stitution a  set  of  institutions  which  are  restrictions  of 
democracy.  They  did  not  invent  any  of  these  institu- 
tions, for  all  of  them  were  already  familiar  in  the  colonies, 
being  of  English  origin  and  developed  and  adapted  to 
the  circumstances  here.  Their  general  character  is 
that  while  they  ensure  the  rule  of  the  majority  of  legal 
voters,  they  yet  insist  upon  it  that  the  will  of  that 
majority  shall  be  constitutionally  expressed  and  that 
it  shall  be  a  sober,  mature,  and  well-considered  will. 
This  constitutes  a  guarantee  against  jacobinism.  Now 
the  whole  genius  of  this  country  has  been  democratic. 
I  have  tried  to  show  that  its  inherited  dogmas  and  its 
environment  made  it  so  inevitably.     Down  through  our 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    335 

history,  therefore,  the  democratic  temper  of  the  people 
has  been  at  war  with  the  Constitutional  institutions. 
When  the  Constitution  was  established  there  was  no 
such  thing  as  universal  manhood  sufiFrage  here;  the  suf- 
frage was  connected  with  freehold  in  land.  This  restric- 
tion, measured  by  the  number  of  people  it  excluded, 
was  a  very  important  one.  It  was  not  until  after  the 
second  war  with  England  that  a  movement  towards 
universal  suffrage  began  in  the  old  states;  then  it  ran 
on  with  great  rapidity  until  universal  suffrage  was  es- 
tablished in  them  all.  The  democratic  temper  also 
seized  upon  that  device  in  the  Constitution  which  was 
the  most  positive  new  invention  in  it  and  which  was 
developed  as  a  safeguard  against  democracy,  viz.,  the 
electoral  college,  and  turned  it  into  a  mere  form  through 
which  the  voters  should  directly  elect  their  own  Presi- 
dent. The  same  sentiments  called  forth  an  unwritten 
law  that  the  President  should  serve  only  two  terms  and 
has  always  loudly  favored  one  term.  Perhaps,  since  the 
great  precedent  was  the  purchase  of  Louisiana  by  Jef- 
ferson, democracy  ought  also  to  be  credited  with  forcing 
an  unwritten  addendum  on  the  Constitution  that  the 
federal  government  could  buy  land.  Democracy  has 
chafed,  at  one  time  and  another,  against  the  veto  of 
the  President,  the  power  of  the  Senate,  and,  above 
all,  against  the  prerogatives  of  the  judiciary  —  all  of 
which  are  institutional  checks  on  democracy.  The 
most  recent  effort  in  the  same  direction  is  the  plan  to 
nominate  senators  by  party  convention  and  to  compel 
the  legislators  to  vote  for  the  candidates  thus  set  before 
them.  No  one  will  deny,  moreover,  that  a  democratic 
spirit  has  been  breathed  through  all  our  institutions, 
has  modified  their  action  and  determined  their  char- 
acter.    Opinions  would  differ  as  to  whether  its  effect 


336  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

has  always  been  good,  but  I  doubt  if  anyone  would  deny 
that  it  has  sometimes  been  good. 

We  see ,  then,  in  our  history,  that  neither  have  the 
Constitutional  institutions  and  guarantees  proved  a 
cast-iron  jacket  in  which  to  enclose  our  society  and 
prevent  its  changes,  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  has  democ- 
racy been  able  to  override  the  institutions  and  render 
them  nugatory.  On  the  contrary,  our  institutions  as 
they  are  to-day  are  the  resultant  of  a  struggle  between 
the  two  —  a  struggle  accompanying  that  expansion 
and  intensification  of  the  organization  which  I  have 
aimed  to  describe. 

Here,  then,  is  an  extraordinary  phenomenon:  an 
advance  of  the  organization  and  an  advance  of  liberty 
too,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  an  advance  in  the 
organization  with  a  transformation  in  the  conception 
of  liberty  and  the  widest  possible  expansion  of  that 
liberty.  While  the  discipline  and  constraint  of  the 
institutions  have  been  exerted  to  reduce  anarchistic 
liberty,  they  have  enlarged  and  created  civil  liberty, 
or  liberty  under  law.  These  two  notions  of  liberty  are 
totally  different  from  one  another.  We  are  suffering 
from  the  fact  that  in  our  current  philosophy,  even 
amongst  educated  people,  the  notion  of  liberty  is  not 
sufficiently  analyzed  and  this  distinction  is  not  suffi- 
ciently understood.  Here  has  been  a  society  advancing 
with  the  greatest  rapidity  in  the  number,  variety, 
complication,  and  delicacy  of  its  interests;  yet  it  has 
at  the  same  time  opened  the  suffrage  on  gratuitous 
terms  to  all  adult  males,  and  granted  them  access  to 
every  public  office,  with  corresponding  control  over  all 
societal  interests.  Where  else  in  history  have  all  adult 
males  in  a  society  actually  possessed  political  power, 
honors,  and  emoluments  and  at  the  same  time  been  sub- 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    337 

ject  to  no  responsibilities,  risks,  charges,  expenses,  or 
burdens  of  any  kind  —  these  being  all  left  to  the  educated 
and  property  classes?  Where  else  has  it  ever  been  pos- 
sible for  a  numerical  majority  to  entail  upon  a  society 
burdens  which  the  minority  must  bear,  while  the  afore- 
said majority  may  scatter  and  leave  the  society  and 
trouble  themselves  no  further  about  it?  The  men  of 
the  Revolution  never  could  have  imagined  any  such 
state  of  things.  In  1775  the  convention  of  Worcester 
County,  Massachusetts,  petitioned  the  Provincial  Con- 
gress "that  no  man  may  be  allowed  to  have  a  seat 
therein  who  does  not  vote  away  his  own  money  for 
public  purposes  in  common  with  the  other  members' 
and  with  his  constituents'."  ^  That  was  the  prevailing 
doctrine  everywhere  at  the  time,  and  yet  within  fifty 
years  the  evolution  of  civil  institutions,  instead  of 
realizing  that  doctrine,  produced  the  state  of  things 
which  I  have  just  described  —  and  that  state  of  things 
was  produced  contemporaneously  with  an  integration 
of  civil  institutions,  an  elevation  of  the  authority  of 
law,  and  a  sharpening  of  social  discipline. 

Now  the  current  opinion  amongst  us  undoubtedly  is 
that  the  extension  of  the  suffrage  and  the  virtual  trans- 
fer of  the  powers  of  government  to  the  uneducated  and 
non-property  classes,  compelling  the  educated  and 
property  classes,  if  they  want  to  influence  the  govern- 
ment, to  do  so  by  persuading  or  perhaps  corrupting  the 
former,  is  a  piece  of  political  wisdom  to  which  our 
fathers  were  led  by  philosophy  and  by  the  conviction 
that  the  doctrine  of  it  was  true  and  just.  There  were 
causes  for  it,  however,  which  were  far  more  powerful 
than  preaching,  argument,  and  philosophy;  and  besides, 
if  you  will  notice  how  hopeless  it  is  by  any  argument 

1  Massachusetts  Journals,  p.  651. 


338  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

to  make  headway  against  any  current  of  belief  which 
has  obtained  momentum  in  a  society,  you  will  put  your 
faith  in  the  current  of  belief  and  not  in  the  power  of 
logic  or  exhortation.  You  will  then  look  at  the  causes 
of  the  current  of  belief,  and  you  will  find  them  in  the 
economic  conditions  which  are  controlling,  at  the  time, 
the  struggle  for  existence  and  the  competition  of  life. 
At  the  beginning  of  this  century  it  would  have  been  just 
exactly  as  impossible  to  put  aristocratic  restrictions  on 
democracy  here  as  it  would  have  been  at  the  same  time 
to  put  democratic  restrictions  on  aristocracy  in  Eng- 
land. Now  the  economic  circumstances  of  our  century 
which  have  modified  the  struggle  for  existence  and  the 
competition  of  life  have  been,  first,  the  opening  of  a 
vast  extent  of  new  land  to  the  use  and  advantage  of  the 
people  who  had  no  social  power  of  any  kind;  and, 
second,  the  advance  in  the  arts.  Of  the  arts,  those  of 
transportation  have  been  the  most  important  because 
they  have  made  the  new  land  accessible;  but  all  the 
other  applications  of  the  arts  have  been  increasing 
man's  power  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  and  they  have 
been  most  in  favor  of  the  classes  which  otherwise  had 
nothing  but  their  hands  with  which  to  carry  on  that 
struggle.  This  has  lessened  the  advantage  of  owning 
land  and  it  has  lessened  the  comparative  advantage  of 
having  capital  over  that  of  having  only  labor.  An 
education  has  not  now  as  great  value  to  give  its  possessor 
a  special  advantage  —  a  share,  that  is,  in  a  limited 
monopoly  —  as  it  had  a  century  ago.  This  is  true  in 
a  still  greater  degree  of  higher  education,  until  we  come 
up  to  those  cases  where  exceptional  talent,  armed  with 
the  highest  training,  once  more  wins  the  advantages  of 
a  natural  monopoly. 

Hence  it  is  that  the  great  economic  changes  I  have 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    339 

mentioned  have  produced  the  greatest  social  revolution 
that  has  ever  occurred.  It  has  raised  the  masses  to 
power,  has  set  slaves  free,  has  given  a  charter  of  social 
and  political  power  to  the  people  who  have  nothing, 
and  has  forced  those-who-have  to  get  power,  if  they 
want  it,  by  persuading  and  influencing  those-who-have- 
not.  All  the  demagogues,  philosophers,  and  principle- 
brokers  are  trying  to  lead  the  triumphal  procession  and 
crying:  "We  got  it  for  you."  "We  are  your  friends.'* 
"It  is  to  us  that  you  owe  it  all."  On  the  other  hand 
the  same  social  revolution  has  undermined  all  social 
institutions  and  prescriptions  of  an  aristocratic  char- 
acter and  they  are  rapidly  crumbling  away,  even  in 
the  Old  World,  under  the  reaction  from  the  New. 

If  now  we  put  this  result  together  with  what  we  had 
reached  before,  we  find  that  the  advance  of  the  social 
and  political  organization  which  should  have  been 
attended,  according  to  all  former  philosophy,  by  greater 
social  pressure  and  diminishing  prosperity  for  the 
masses,  although  it  has  indeed  been  attended  by  lessen- 
ing of  the  old  anarchistic  liberty,  has  also  been  accom- 
panied by  the  far  more  important  fact  of  enormously 
enlarged  social  and  political  power  and  chances  for  the 
masses.  The  world  has  passed  into  hands  of  new  mas- 
ters, and  the  all-absorbing  questions  for  mankind  and 
civilization  now  are:  What  will  they  do  with  it?  How 
will  they  behave.'*  Already  in  this  country,  and  in' all 
others  which  have  adopted  democratic  forms,  successive 
elections  show  a  steady  movement  towards  throwing 
out  men  of  well-defined  convictions  and  positive  strength 
on  either  side,  so  that  parliamentary  institutions  seem 
to  be  clearly  on  the  decline.  In  every  great  civilized 
country,  also,  political  parties  are  breaking  up  and  are 
losing   their   character   as   groups   of   persons   holding 


340  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

common  convictions  on  questions  of  general  policy. 
Their  place  is  being  taken  by  petty  groups  of  repre- 
sentatives of  certain  interests.  The  more  we  enlarge 
the  sphere  of  government,  the  more  true  it  is  that  every 
act  of  legislation  enriches  or  ruins  those  who  are  in- 
terested in  some  branch  of  industry;  such  persons  say, 
therefore,  that  they  cannot  afford  to  neglect  legislative 
proceedings.  The  consequence  is  the  immense  power 
of  the  lobby,  and  legislation  comes  to  be  an  affair  of 
coalition  between  interests  to  make  up  a  majority. 
If  that  goes  on,  its  logical  and  institutional  outcome  must 
be  that  the  non-possessors,  if  united,  must  form  the 
largest  interest-group,  and  that  they  will  then  find 
that  the  easiest  way  ever  yet  devised  to  get  wealth  is  to 
hold  a  parliament  and,  by  a  majority  vote,  order  that  the 
possessors  of  wealth  shall  give  it  to  the  non-possessors. 
This  program  has  already  been  proposed  and  adopted  and 
strong  efforts  are  on  foot  to  organize  the  parliamentary 
groups  on  this  basis  so  as  to  put  it  into  action. 

We  have  abundant  facts  at  hand  to  show  us,  also, 
that  the  higher  the  social  organization  is  the  more 
delicate  it  is  and  the  more  it  is  exposed  to  harm  upon 
all  sides  and  from  slight  influences.  A  great,  com- 
plicated, and  delicate  social  organization  presents  a 
vast  array  of  phenomena  of  all  kinds,  many  of  which 
are  paradoxical  and  contradictory  in  their  relation  to 
each  other.  The  analysis  of  these  phenomena  and  the 
interpretation  of  them  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world 
if  we  go  about  it  with  a  few  so-called  "ethical"  princi- 
ples; but  if  we  approach  it  with  any  due  conception  of 
what  it  is  that  we  are  trying  to  do,  we  find  it  the  hardest 
mental  task  ever  yet  cast  upon  mankind.  We  boast 
of  our  successes  in  science  and  art;  but  those  successes 
have  brought  about  a  social  organization  and  produced 


ADVANCING   ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    341 

social  problems  which  we  cannot  evade,  and  if  we  do 
not  solve  them  aright,  we  may  ruin  all  our  other  achieve- 
ments and  go  down  to  barbarism  again. 

Here  I  find  myself  on  the  verge  of  prophecy  and  so 
here  I  arrest  myself.  The  political  prophets  of  our 
country  have  always  been  either  optimists  or  alarmists. 
I  should  not  be  willing  to  be  either.  The  optimists 
scoff  at  all  warnings  and  misgivings;  they  think  we 
need  not  trouble  ourselves  to  think  or  take  care,  and 
they  exhort  us  to  go  ahead,  encouraging  us  with  familiar 
phrases  and  commonplaces.  I  have  suggested  that  we 
need  to  be  prudent,  to  listen  to  reason,  to  use  fore- 
thought and  care.  Social  and  political  crises  are  sure 
to  arise  among  us  as  they  must  in  any  human  society  — 
we  have  had  enough  of  them  to  convince  us  that  they 
will  come  again.  I  have  suggested  also  that  our  politi- 
cal system  calls  for  more  political  sense,  sober  judgment, 
and  ever-active  prudence  than  any  other  political  sys- 
tem does.  It  also  forbids  us  to  do  many  things  which 
states  of  other  forms  may  undertake.  It  is  especially 
incompatible  with  our  form  of  democratic  republic  to 
charge  the  state  with  many  and  various  functions,  for 
our  state  should  be  simple  to  the  last  possible  degree. 
It  should  handle  as  little  money  as  possible;  it  should 
encourage  the  constant  individual  activity  of  its  citizens 
and  never  do  anything  to  weaken  individual  initiative. 
But  the  tendency  to-day  is  all  the  other  way.  Our 
state  should  have  as  few  office-holders  as  possible. 
The  stubborn  dogmatism  of  the  old  Jeffersonians  on 
these  points  showed  that  they  had  stronger  sense  of  the 
maxims  necessary  to  maintain  the  kind  of  state  they 
liked  than  anybody  has  nowadays;  to  suppose  that 
these  maxims  are  inconsistent  with  strength  of  govern- 
ment, in  the  distinct  and  exclusive  field  of  government. 


342  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

is  to  give  proof  of  a  very  shallow  political  philosophy. 
They  are  the  conditions  of  strong  government  in  purely 
civil  afifairs,  for  the  more  outside  functions  a  state 
assumes  the  more  it  is  hampered  in  its  proper  business. 
Furthermore,  our  federal  state  cannot  enter  on  a  great 
many  enterprises  which  imperial  states  under  the 
monarchical  or  aristocratic  form  have  been  wont  to 
undertake;  it  cannot  embark  on  an  enterprising  foreign 
policy  or  on  conquest  or  on  annexation  without  putting 
its  internal  equilibrium  at  stake.  This  is  because  of  its 
peculiar  structure  and  principles.  We  may  see,  how- 
ever, strong  symptoms  amongst  us  of  all  the  old  ambi- 
tions, the  thirst  for  bigness  and  glory  which  have  cost 
the  people  of  Europe  so  dearly,  and  we  hear  all  the 
dogmas  of  militarism  once  more  brought  to  the  front  as 
rules  of  our  policy.  Here  are  things  which  call  for 
something  very  different  from  heedless  optimism. 

The  alarmists,  on  the  other  hand,  have  against  them 
the  immense  vigor  of  this  society,  its  power  to  react 
against  calamity  and  to  recover  from  errors.  Alarmist 
predictions  of  the  past  have  all  been  proved  utterly 
mistaken.  You  can  find  such  predictions  scattered  all 
the  way  along:  in  1800,  when  the  Federalists  gave  way 
to  Jefferson;  at  the  Second  War;  all  through  Jackson's 
time;  at  the  Mexican  W^ar;  at  the  Civil  War  —  and 
it  may  be  some  encouragement  to  the  timid  to  ask 
whether,  at  those  crises,  there  did  not  seem  to  be  as 
good  cause  for  alarm,  albeit  a  different  one,  as  seems  to 
exist  now.  It  is  evident  that  if  George  W^ashington 
and  his  contemporaries  had  tried  to  anticipate  our 
problems  and  to  solve  them  for  us  in  advance  they  would 
have  made  ridiculous  blunders,  for  they  could  not 
possibly  have  foreseen  our  case  or  understood  the  ele- 
ments which  enter  into  it.     Let  us  be  very  sure  that  if 


ADVANCING  ORGANIZATION  IN  AMERICA    343 

we  try  to  look  forward  a  century  we  are  making  just  the 
same  kind  of  ridiculous  blunders.  We  cannot  make 
anything  else.  One  of  the  chief  results  of  our  historical 
studies  is  to  show  us  the  repeated  and  accumulated 
faults  and  errors  of  men  in  the  past.  You  will  observe 
that  the  common  inference  is  that  we,  since  we  see  the 
errors  of  the  past,  are  perpetrating  none  in  our  own 
schemes  and  projects;  but  this  is  the  greatest  fallacy 
there  is  (and  there  are  a  great  many)  in  our  historical 
method  of  social  study.  The  correct  inference  would 
be  that  we  too,  if  we  plot  schemes  of  social  action  which 
reach  beyond  the  immediate  facts  and  the  nearest  in- 
terests, are  only  committing  new  errors,  the  effects  of 
which  will  be  entailed  upon  posterity.  The  reason  for 
this  is  that  the  future  contains  new  and  unknown  ele- 
ments, incalculable  combinations,  unforeseeable  changes 
in  the  moods,  tastes,  standards,  and  desires  of  the 
people.  If  we  look  back  to  Washington's  time  and 
see  what  changes  have  taken  place  in  all  these  respects, 
then  we  may  look  to  the  future  in  full  confidence  that 
such  changes  will  go  on  in  the  next  hundred  years. 

These  changes  are  what  have  turned  the  terrors  of 
the  alarmist  to  scorn.  Certain  it  is  that  the  Americans 
of  the  nineteenth  century  have  been  far  happier,  as  a 
society,  than  any  other  society  of  human  beings  ever 
has  been.  They  have  been  shielded  from  the  com- 
monest and  heaviest  calamities  and  have  been  free 
from  the  most  vexatious  burdens  of  human  society; 
except  at  certain  periods,  taxation  has  been  light  and 
military  duty  an  amusement;  they  have  inherited  a 
great  untouched  continent,  with  powers  of  science  and 
art,  for  taking  and  using  it,  incomparably  superior  to 
anything  ever  possessed  before  by  men.  Very  few  of 
them  apparently  have  understood  or  understand  their 


844  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

own  good  fortune  and  its  exceptional  character.  If  all 
conditions  should  remain  the  same  and  the  population 
go  on  increasing,  the  exceptional  conditions  would  pass 
away  and  our  posterity  would  have  to  contend  sometime 
or  other  with  all  the  old  social  problems  again.  The 
conditions,  however,  will  not  remain  the  same;  they 
will  change,  no  doubt  in  the  direction  of  still  greater 
and  better  chances.  This  fact  is  what  gives  the  optimist 
his  justification  and  makes  his  reckless  blindness  appear 
to  be  the  shrewdest  foresight.  Furthermore,  the  prob- 
lems which  sometimes  appal  us  nowadays  are  not 
peculiar  to  America;  they  are  quite  as  heavy  and  as 
knotty  in  England,  France,  and  Germany  as  they  are 
here.  In  many  points  we  are  further  on  towards  a 
solution  than  those  countries  are:  we  have  better  social 
defences  from  behind  which  to  meet  the  dangers;  and  they 
do  not  come  upon  us,  as  they  do  upon  the  nations  of  Eu- 
rope, mixed  up  with  militarism,  with  the  relics  of  feudal 
institutions,  and  with  the  traditions  of  absolute  monarchy. 
And  now  my  task  is  done  if,  by  a  discussion  of  the 
teachings  of  our  history,  I  have  contributed  to  a  bet- 
ter understanding  of  present  facts  and  forces;  for  the 
highest  wisdom  and  the  most  patriotic  devotion  to  our 
country  which  we  can  manifest  lie  in  the  faithful  per- 
formance of  present  civic  duties  and  in  diligent  efforts  to 
accomplish  the  tasks  which  lie  immediately  before  us. 
We  may  be  very  sure  that  a  succeeding  century  will 
take  care  of  itself;  also  that  it  will  not  be  able  to  take 
care  of  us.  All  the  energy  we  spend,  therefore,  in  pre- 
paring for  it  is  worse  than  thrown  away.  It  will  be 
useless  for  its  purpose  and  it  will  be  abstracted  from 
what  we  can  spend  on  our  own  problems,  which  are  big 
enough  and  hard  enough  to  require  all  the  energy  we 
have  to  deal  with  them. 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS 

[1872] 

A  TIDE  is  rising  in  modern  history  which  reaches  one 
after  another  of  the  institutions,  behefs,  and  traditions 
which  we  have  inherited  from  the  past.  As  it  touches 
the  bad  ones,  they  crumble,  one  after  another,  and  fall 
beneath  its  waves.  Some  call  this  tide  "revolution.'* 
They  see  only  its  destructive  side  and  its  iconoclastic 
spirit  and  as  they  watch  its  advance,  they  fall  under  its 
fascination.  The  demon  of  destruction  which  lurks  in 
every  human  breast  is  aroused  and  men  are  eager  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  work  of  overthrowing  and  destroying.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that  this  new  movement  has  several  times 
manifested  itself  in  revolution.  It  did  so  in  England; 
it  did  so  in  America;  and  it  did  so  in  France;  but  the 
thoughtful  student  of  history  will  see  in  these  mani- 
festations no  reason  to  "glorify  revolution."  He  will 
rather  see  in  all  such  internecine  strife  the  sad  side  of 
human  nature.  He  detects  only  the  mad  passions  of 
men:  on  the  one  hand  fanatical  devotion  to  effete  insti- 
tutions and  rotten  traditions  and  on  the  other  side  the 
senseless  love  of  ruin.  He  will  tell  us  that  if  this  is  the 
true  manifestation  of  the  so-called  modern  spirit,  then 
an  enemy  to  civilization  is  abroad  on  the  earth  compared 
with  which  the  barbaric  lust  for  destruction  of  the  Huns 
and  Vandals  sinks  into  insignificance. 

But,  in  fact,  the  new  movement  is  not  simply  destruc- 
tive;   it  has  also  its  positive  and  constructive  side;    it 

[347] 


S48  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

pulls  down  only  to  build  better.  It  bears  a  freight  of 
new  ideas,  doctrines,  and  institutions,  rich  with  fruits 
of  peace,  joy,  and  prosperity.  Its  violent  manifestations 
are  only  the  fight  which  it  has  to  wage  for  its  birth-right. 
It  is  true,  indeed,  that  the  blood  which  is  spilled  upon 
its  garments  leaves  deep  stains;  nay  more,  that  those 
stains  must  be  washed  out  in  long  suffering  and  patient 
toil  and  steady  devotion  to  duty  before  the  movement 
can  renew  its  march.  The  fight  is  never  over  when  the 
banner  is  furled  and  the  arms  are  returned  to  the  arse- 
nal. On  the  contrary,  that  is  just  when  the  fight  begins 
—  a  new  fight  and  a  hard  one;  not  a  fight  of  guns,  but 
of  ideas;  not  of  artillery,  but  of  discussion.  The  war- 
fare of  the  battle-field  only  secures  freedom  of  discussion 
and  tames  the  party  which  sought  to  cut  it  short  by  an 
appeal  to  arms.  Then  arises  a  new  question:  whether 
those  who  won  the  victory  under  the  inspiration  of 
physical  combat  have  the  patience,  the  tenacity,  and 
the  self-denial  to  secure  its  fruits  by  establishing  and 
spreading  sound  principles,  by  founding  and  fostering 
good  institutions,  and  by  engrafting  upon  the  culture 
and  civilization  of  their  country  the  new  convictions 
which  they  have  won.  To  destroy  old  traditions  is 
easy,  but  no  nation  can  do  without  traditions  unless 
it  is  willing  to  become  the  prey  of  demagogues  and 
mountebanks  and  to  chase  every  day  a  new  chimera. 
But  traditions  must  be  cared  for  through  a  tender 
process  of  germination  until  they  take  root  and 
acquire  vitality  and  that  is  a  labor  of  time,  patience, 
and  self-sacrifice. 

Ten  years  ago  this  tide  of  modern  history  reached  to 
one  of  the  inherited  institutions  of  this  nation.  Fore- 
most in  many  respects  as  we  were  in  our  sympathy  as 
a  nation  with  all  the  new  ideas  and  institutions,  we  yet 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  849 

had  in  our  midst  an  institution  which  represented  and 
rested  on  the  grossest  falsehood  invented  in  the  past  — 
perhaps  we  had  even  developed  the  wrong  into  phases 
more  revolting  than  it  had  elsewhere  attained.  With  a 
social  and  civil  system  which  was  democratic  from  its 
broadest  principle  to  its  slightest  development,  we  yet 
had  an  institution  whose  essential  spirit  was  aristocratic. 
"With  a  mercantile  system  running  to  excess  even  in  its 
application  to  all  the  relations  of  life,  according  to  which 
services  rendered  commanded  a  pecuniary  recompense, 
we  yet  had  a  system  of  labor  within  our  national  frontier 
under  which  one  set  of  men  did  all  the  work  and  another 
set  of  men  took  all  the  pay.  All  history  might  have 
taught  us  that  inconsistencies  so  gross  could  never 
endure;  that  a  united  nation  never  could  be  built  out 
of  elements  so  discordant,  producing  a  grotesque  civil, 
social,  political,  and  mercantile  monstrosity.  Under  the 
influence  of  modern  inventions  which  were  rapidly  unit- 
ing us  as  far  as  space  and  time  were  concerned,  it 
was  inevitable  that  sooner  or  later  this  alternative 
must  come  to  a  decision;  either  the  attempt  to  form 
this  people  into  one  homogeneous  nation  must  fail  or 
else  the  discordant  elements  must  be  eliminated.  The 
enactments  on  which  the  existing  status  was  based 
might  avail  to  this  extent,  that  the  changes  could  not  be 
wrought  out  without  a  frightful  convulsion,  but  they 
could  not  avail  to  prevent  the  decision  of  the  alternative. 
The  modern  doctrines  of  equality,  justice,  and  right  rea- 
son, as  practical  principles  on  which  governments  ought 
to  be  based,  had  wrought  upon  the  consciences  of  our 
people  until  a  majority  were  hostile  to  one  of  our  inher- 
ited institutions  which  enjoyed  the  sanction  of  law.  It 
was  only  another  phase  of  the  modern  revulsion  against 
all  forms  of  privilege  and  caste,  which  had  already  pro- 


350  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

duced  so  many  crises  in  Europe.  Our  turn  had  come. 
We  had  been  foremost  in  accepting  the  modern  prin- 
ciples; we  must  now  put  our  institutions  into  complete 
consistency  with  them.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  advo- 
cates of  the  abuse  sought  the  arbitration  of  force  and 
the  first  consequence  of  the  new  convictions  was  a  bloody 
and  desolating  war,  but  the  subsequent  consequences 
have,  I  believe,  been  such  as  to  educate  and  develop  the 
nation.  The  destructive  feature  was  first  manifested, 
but  we  are  now  going  through  the  constructive  develop- 
ing and  consolidating  movement.  Let  us  see  if  this  is 
not  so. 

It  is  easy  for  us  now  to  look  back  and  philosophize 
upon  the  events,  but  at  the  time  none  of  us  were  so 
wise.  One  thing  only  the  popular  mind  did  discern,  and 
discern  clearly,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  storm,  and  that 
was  the  main  gist  of  the  question  at  issue.  The  people 
did  see  that  it  was  a  question  whether  we  should  form 
one  homogeneous  nation,  or  whether  the  discordant  in- 
stitution should  be  maintained. 

With  the  decision  of  that  question  the  nation  was 
born;  or,  perhaps  I  should  say,  attained  its  manhood. 
For  the  life  of  this  nation  up  to  that  time  had  been  a 
kind  of  boyhood.  We  had  rollicked  in  the  exultation  of 
youth.  We  were  conscious  of  vigor  and  freedom.  We 
knew  few  of  the  burdens  of  national  life.  We  had  no 
powerful  neighbors  to  impose  fear  upon  us.  We  were 
not  entangled  in  any  weary  diplomacy.  We  had  the 
sea  between  us  and  our  enemies  and  we  did  not  feel  the 
burdens  of  national  defense.  We  had  no  old  traditions 
to  cramp  us;  no  vested  interests  to  respect;  no  compli- 
cated rights  to  fetter  our  movements  of  public  policy. 
We  were  an  experiment  and  we  rejoiced  in  the  evidences 
of  our   success.     We   undertook   other   experiments  in 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  351 

social,  civil,  and  political  matters,  whose  apparent  reck- 
lessness struck  older  nations  aghast,  but  which  we  did 
not  fear  to  make  because  we  were  confident  of  our  power 
to  recover  from  failure.  Our  relations  were  free,  our 
powers  were  abundant  enough  to  endure  waste.  Withal, 
we  could  not  find  opportunities  to  manifest  all  our 
strength.  We  could  only  promise  to  do  and  assert 
our  ability  to  do,  and  this  exposed  us  to  malicious  in- 
terpretations. In  all  this  we  see  the  indications  of 
youth,  of  inexperience,  of  exuberant  spirits,  of  overflow- 
ing power. 

But  the  convulsion  through  which  we  passed  ten  years 
ago  had  the  effect  upon  us  as  a  nation  which  a  grave 
trial  has  upon  a  man:  at  one  step  he  passes  from  youth 
to  manhood.  He  comes  to  know  the  world  in  which  he 
lives.  He  appreciates  the  earnestness  of  life.  His  con- 
fidence in  his  own  powers  may  be  no  less  firm,  but  it 
is  far  more  sober.  He  does  not  tempt  the  trials  of  life. 
He  no  longer  seeks  opportunities  to  waste  his  energies 
for  the  mere  sake  of  exercising  them.  He  husbands  his 
powers  and  settles  down  to  a  less  romantic,  but  far  more 
efficient  method  of  undertaking  and  working.  So  it 
was,  I  say,  with  this  nation.  War  had  been  to  us  a 
tradition  of  glory.  During  a  long  peace,  interrupted 
only  by  a  slight  foreign  war,  a  generation  had  grown 
up  which  had  no  knowledge,  from  actual  experience,  of 
what  war  is;  but  to  the  Americans  of  this  generation  war 
is  a  lurid  glory.  We  never  can  deceive  ourselves  as  to 
what  it  means.  It  brings  to  us  no  poetry  or  romance,  but 
we  have  seen  the  spectre  face  to  face  and  have  recognized 
its  true  features.  We  are  yet  so  near  to  it  that  our  ex- 
ultation is  dimmed  in  tears  and  when  we  turn  our  mem- 
ory back  to  it,  we  cannot  tell  whether  a  sob  or  a  cheer 
will  burst  from  our  hearts.     War,  to  our  generation  of 


352  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

Americans,  is  a  grim  necessity  to  which  sober  men  may 
be  driven  in  the  last  extremity  to  ward  off  violent  hands 
from  all  which  makes  life  valuable,  and  no  flowers  of 
rhetoric  can  make  us  see  in  it  anything  else  than  the  dire 
necessity  of  a  peaceful  citizen  when  his  life,  his  family, 
his  fireside,  and  his  country  are  in  danger  from  the 
rage  of  a  misguided  foe. 

The  war  taught  us  also  the  value  of  moral  forces  in 
national  life.  We  were  in  danger  of  falling  into  all  the 
vices  of  a  long  and  lazy  peace.  Our  interests  were  cen- 
tering in  mercantile  and  industrial  pursuits  until  it 
seemed  that,  as  a  nation,  we  might  hold  no  cause  worth 
the  injury  which  must  result  from  an  interruption  of 
industry.  It  seemed  that  our  country  might  come  to 
mean  to  us  only  a  territory  teeming  with  wealth  for 
which  we  desired  to  scramble  without  interruption. 
Patriotism  was  a  virtue  which  languished  for  want  of 
exercise.  It  could  no  longer  live  on  the  story  of  great 
deeds  done  by  a  former  generation,  for  the  love  of  coun- 
try, like  every  other  love,  grows  by  what  it  demands, 
not  by  what  it  brings;  those  who  love  their  country 
are  those  who  have  paid  for  it,  not  those  who  have  en- 
joyed its  blessings  after  it  was  bought.  But  the  great 
crisis  of  our  recent  history  offered  to  our  people  an  ideal 
good.  It  held  up  before  the  mind  of  the  nation  a  good 
to  be  won  which  was  worth  more  than  gold  or  raiment. 
It  called  them  to  win  for  their  children  another  inheri- 
tance than  lands  or  stocks  and  that  was  the  inheritance 
of  a  nation  which  should  be  to  them  a  true  nursing 
mother  by  its  traditions  of  labor,  patience,  suffering,  and 
self-denial.  The  people  responded  to  the  call.  They 
proved  to  all  the  world  and  to  themselves,  which  is  far 
more  important,  that  they  could  understand  such  a  call, 
that  they  could  appreciate  a  higher  and  ideal  good,  and 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  353 

that  they  were   not  yet   altogether  given   over   to   the 
desire  for  material  prosperity. 

The  war  also  taught  this  people  what  a  nation  is.  A 
nation  is  not  a  certain  extent  of  territory  on  the  earth's 
surface;  nor  is  it  the  mere  aggregate  of  the  persons  who 
may  live  within  a  certain  territory.  A  nation  is  a  com- 
munity of  various  ages,  occupations,  talents,  and  cir- 
cumstances, but  all  united  in  a  common  interest.  It  is 
a  unit  which  has  organic  life.  It  is  enduring  in  its 
existence,  spanning  over  individual  lives  and  generations. 
It  accumulates  the  contributions  of  various  individuals 
and  of  various  generations  and  it  brings  them  all  to  the 
service  and  benefit  of  each.  It  is,  therefore,  in  the 
strictest  sense,  a  common-wealth,  in  which  each  par- 
ticipates in  the  prosperity  of  the  whole  and  all  suffer 
through  the  misfortune  of  one.  It  brings  down  from 
generation  to  generation  the  accumulation  of  art,  science, 
and  literature  and  its  store  of  these  treasures  should 
be  a  steadily  increasing  one.  It  brings  down  the  public 
buildings,  the  machinery  of  government,  the  stores  of 
defensive  means,  the  galleries  of  painting,  the  museums 
of  art  and  science,  the  libraries,  as  a  continually  increas- 
ing endowment  of  posterity.  Moreover  it  cherishes 
traditions  which,  if  they  become  petrified,  form  a  prison- 
house  which  must  be  broken,  but  which,  if  they  are 
fresh,  living,  and  flexible,  are  the  framework  of  society. 
For  instance,  the  rights  of  conscience,  the  equality  of  all 
men  before  the  law,  the  separation  of  church  and  state, 
religious  toleration,  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press, 
popular  education,  are  vital  traditions  of  the  American 
people.  They  are  not  brought  in  question;  they  form 
the  stock  of  firm  and  universal  convictions  on  which 
our  national  life  is  based;  they  are  ingrained  into  the 
character  of  our  people  and  you  can  assume,  in  any 


354  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

controversy,  that  an  American  will  admit  their  truth. 
But  they  form  the  sum  of  traditions  which  we  obtain  as 
our  birth-right.  They  are  never  explicitly  taught  to  us, 
but  we  assimilate  them  in  our  earliest  childhood  from 
all  our  surroundings,  at  the  fireside,  at  school,  from  the 
press,  on  the  highways  and  streets.  We  never  hear  them 
disputed  and  it  is  only  when  we  observe  how  difficult  it  is 
for  some  foreign  nations  to  learn  them  that  we  perceive 
that  they  are  not  implanted  by  nature  in  the  human 
mind.  They  are  a  part  and  the  most  valuable  part  of 
our  national  inheritance,  and  the  obligation  of  love,  labor, 
and  protection  which  we  owe  to  the  nation  rests  upon 
these  benefits  which  we  receive  from  it. 

We  have  learned,  I  say,  in  these  last  ten  years,  to 
appreciate  the  idea  of  a  nation  and  its  value  as  a  unit 
and  as  a  commonwealth.  We  have  also  reached  the 
determination  that  we,  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
will  be  a  nation,  not  a  chance  aggregate  of  adventurers 
in  a  new  country  nor  a  confederation  of  jealous  and  dis- 
cordant states,  but  a  union  and  a  unity,  holding  as  muni- 
cipal rights  those  things  which  are  truly  limited  and  local 
and  by  which  no  jealousies  are  aroused,  but  maintaining 
pure  our  sense  of  a  true  national  bond  embracing  all  as 
far  as  the  national  name  extends. 

We  have  also  obtained  clearer  views  as  to  the  way  in 
which  a  nation  is  to  be  formed. 

1.  The  first  necessity  for  a  nation  is  a  homogeneous 
population.  The  nations  of  Europe  generally  start 
with  this  condition  satisfied,  and  it  is  only  when,  by 
foreign  conquest,  they  absorb  foreign  elements  that 
they  experience  difficulty  in  this  respect.  In  general 
they  embrace  within  a  certain  area  persons  who  speak  a 
common  language,  cherish  the  same  traditions,  have  the 
same  manners  and  customs  and,  in  many  cases,  hold  the 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  855 

same  religion.  But  we  have  a  chaotic  society  and  a 
conglomerate  population.  Europeans,  Africans,  and  Asi- 
atics meet  with  the  aborigines  of  this  continent  in  our 
population.  We  have  every  diversity  of  race,  nation- 
ality, language,  manners,  customs,  religion,  traditions, 
and  character.  To  form  a  nation,  we  must  mold  these 
elements  into  a  certain  measure  of  similarity  and  con- 
formity. The  divisions  which  are  based  upon  the  cir- 
cumstances of  foreign  countries  must  be  left  behind. 
The  jealousies  of  race  and  the  hatreds  of  sects  and  the 
bitterness  of  parties  which  have  sprung  up  in  foreign 
lands  are  no  heritage  of  ours.  They  are  curses  which 
must  not  be  transplanted  hither.  The  divisions,  fac- 
tions, and  cliques  which  take  their  names  from  the  origin 
of  their  members  in  foreign  countries  must  be  dissolved 
in  the  new  bond  of  American  citizenship.  The  institu- 
tions, traditions,  social  and  civil  forms  which  are  known 
as  American  are  what  have  made  this  country  a  more 
desirable  residence  to  many  persons  than  the  land  of 
their  birth.  They  are  welcome  to  the  great  American 
nationality,  to  which  many  of  us  are  only  new-comers, 
but  it  is  certainly  no  unfair  demand  to  ask  that  they 
shall  come  in  order  to  be  Americans  and  not  in  order  to 
find  in  the  new  world  a  new  arena  for  the  strifes  which 
desolate  the  old.  Such  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  all 
to  merge  sectional,  national,  and  other  partisanships 
in  the  new  nationality  is  a  prime  necessity  if  we  are  to 
form  a  nation. 

2.  It  is  only  a  development  of  the  same  idea  to  say 
that,  in  order  to  have  a  nation,  we  must  have  homoge- 
neous institutions.  We  have  already  noticed  how  in- 
congruous the  institution  of  slavery  was  in  our  civil  and 
social  system,  and  we  have  observed  that  that  incon- 
gruity led  to  a  crisis  in  which  the  question  at  stake  was 


366  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

nothing  less  than  this :  whether  we  should  be  a  nation  or 
not.  It  is  an  instance  of  a  general  law.  The  nation, 
as  we  have  defined  it,  an  organic  unit,  a  commonwealth, 
a  true  educator  and  benefactor,  cannot  attain  to  the 
harmony  which  is  its  law  of  life  unless  its  institutions 
are  similar,  harmonious,  and  compatible.  They  need 
not  be  uniform,  for  local  circumstances  will  give  them 
local  color,  but  they  must  not  be  discordant.  The  re- 
lations of  the  general  government  to  the  state  govern- 
ments cannot  be  one  thing  in  one  section  and  another  in 
another,  if  we  are  to  solidify  into  a  nation.  If  a  man 
reared  in  Maine  imbibes  certain  ideas  of  the  right  of 
free  speech,  and,  on  going  to  Florida  or  California 
finds  that  the  exercise  of  that  right  puts  his  life  and 
liberty  in  danger,  he  will  not  feel  that  any  true  bond 
of  nationality  unites  those  localities.  If  it  is  a  prin- 
ciple which  is  recognized  almost  universally  through- 
out the  country  that  our  soil  and  our  institutions  are 
open  to  all  men  who  choose  to  come  here  and  practice 
industry  in  peace,  then  any  section  which  limits  this 
principle  by  hostility  to  a  single  race  impairs,  in  so  far, 
the  development  of  a  true  nationality.  If  monogamy 
is  rooted  in  our  civilization  and  lies  at  the  lowest  founda- 
tion of  our  social  structure,  then  polygamy,  if  practised 
amongst  us,  is  a  foreign  and  disturbing  element.  Those 
who  practise  it  may  be  amongst  us  but  not  of  us.  They 
cannot  form  with  us  a  homogeneous  nationality.  We 
are  not  wise  if  we  apply  force  to  compel  unformity  in 
these  respects,  but  we  ought  to  understand  the  task 
which  lies  before  us  and  the  ends  towards  which  we 
have  to  strive,  and  we  must  seek  to  accomplish  them 
through  the  propagation  of  sound  doctrines  and  general 
enlightenment. 

3.   This  brings  us  to  another  necessary  condition  for 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  357 

a  nation,  a  condition  which,  in  order  of  thought  and  of 
importance  is  first  of  all,  that  is,  that  the  people  shall 
have  a  fund  of  common  convictions,  common  principles, 
and  common  aims.  The  institutions  of  a  country  are 
only  an  embodiment  and  expression  of  the  national 
faiths.  We,  for  instance,  as  a  nation,  believe  that  every 
man  has  a  full  right  to  make  the  most  of  himself  and 
that  the  commonwealth  will  gain  by  making  the  most 
of  every  individual  born  within  its  limits.  Our  common 
schools  are  an  institution  framed  to  give  practical  eflS- 
ciency  to  this  conviction.  In  a  country  or  section  where 
it  is  believed  that  one  portion  of  the  community  are  born 
to  menial  offices  and  that  the  commonwealth  injures 
itself  by  educating  them  to  be  dissatisfied  with  their 
position,  you  will  find  no  common  school  system.  We 
believe  also  that  the  truth  in  regard  to  any  matter 
whatsoever  is  most  likely  to  emerge  from  a  free  discus- 
sion. We  know  that  much  will  be  said  in  such  a  dis- 
cussion which  will  be  crude,  much  which  will  be  foolish, 
and  perhaps  some  things  which  will  be  wicked  and 
malicious.  We  nevertheless  have  faith  in  freedom.  We 
trust  it,  and  a  free  press  is  an  institution  which  is  a  natu- 
ral product  of  this  conviction.  In  countries  where  such 
faiths  are  wanting,  we  meet  with  censorships,  restric- 
tions, and  limitations.  One  part  of  the  population 
undertakes  to  decide  for  another  part  what  things  are 
healthful  and  true.  So,  universally,  the  institutions  of 
a  country  are  the  embodiment  of  its  faiths.  Moreover 
every  law  which  is  passed  is  an  embodiment  of  a  cer- 
tain theoretical  principle  which  is  believed  to  be  sound. 
There  is  a  philosophy  of  some  sort  at  the  bottom  of 
all  legislation,  whether  it  be  the  polished  philosophy  of 
the  schools  or  the  rough  and  ready  philosophy  of  men 
of  practical  experience.    We  take  private  property  for 


858  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

public  uses  because  it  is  believed  right  and  just  to  do  so. 
We  punish  criminals  because  we  believe  in  the  theoreti- 
cal doctrine  that  a  man  forfeits  his  right  to  life  or  liberty 
if  he  misuses  his  powers  to  the  injury  of  his  neighbors. 
We  interfere  with  the  freedom  of  purchase  and  sale  of 
certain  articles  on  grounds  of  public  policy.  Thus,  as 
we  say,  all  our  public  acts  represent  popular  opinion, 
that  is,  the  beliefs  which  the  people  cherish. 

It  follows  from  all  this  that  if  we  are  to  be  a  united 
and  harmonious  nation,  it  is  of  the  first  importance 
that  we  shall  be  united  in  our  convictions  on  those  fun- 
damental principles  which  underlie  our  jurisprudence, 
our  legislation,  our  education,  and  our  diplomacy.  We 
must  be  agreed  as  to  whether  we  will  seek  in  our 
diplomacy  petty  advantages  and  jealous  self-interest  or 
whether  we,  as  a  nation,  will  contribute  to  the  widest 
good  of  humanity;  whether  our  motto  shall  be  to  see 
that  our  country  is  always  right  or  to  stand  by  our 
country  right  or  wrong.  We  must  be  agreed  as  to  the 
ends  to  be  sought  by  government,  whether  they  are  the 
broadest  national  prosperity  or  the  satisfaction  of  fac- 
tions and  parties.  We  must  agree  in  our  estimate  of 
the  true  province  and  scope  of  legislation,  whether  men 
can  be  made  good  and  rich  by  law  or  whether  the  true 
principle  of  strength  be  reluctance  of  the  commonwealth 
to  interfere  further  than  is  absolutely  necessary  with 
individual  enterprise  and  the  individual  conscience. 
Our  faith  in  the  value  of  training  and  culture  must  be 
unanimous.  We  must  esteem  care  and  painstaking 
and  thoroughness  and  industry  in  every  department  of 
life,  and  we  must  so  esteem  the  authority  of  knowledge, 
experience,  judgment,  and  sound  reason  as  to  be  willing 
to  defer  to  it.  We  must  also  be  reasonably  unanimous 
in  regard  to  the  highest  interests  of  man,  the  relation  of 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  359 

this  life  to  immortality,  and  the  moral  obligations  which 
depend  on  that  relation;  and  we  must  agree  in  our  esti- 
mate of  the  value  of  conscience  in  all  human  affairs. 
These  are  only  a  few  of  the  broad  and  fundamental 
principles  which  underlie  human  affairs,  unanimity  in 
regard  to  which  is  necessary  in  a  body  of  men  who  aspire 
to  form  a  nation.  Men  will  always  differ  in  regard  to 
the  particular  application  of  these  principles  to  especial 
cases,  and  therefore  parties  will  always  exist,  but  these 
principles  underlie  all  parties  and  are  essential  to  the 
unity  of  the  commonwealth. 

Here,  then,  we  have  an  outline  of  what  a  nation  is, 
what  is  requisite  to  its  formation,  and  what  is  required 
for  its  permanent  prosperity — matters  which  the  events 
of  the  last  ten  years  have  brought  into  new  prominence 
and  new  interest.  We  count  them  into  the  results  of 
our  great  civil  crisis.  It  gave  us  a  feeling  of  unity  and 
nationality,  it  gave  us  a  history,  it  vindicated  us  to  our- 
selves and  to  posterity  as  a  people  who  could  under- 
stand and  respond  to  an  ideal  good,  and  it  fixed  our 
attention  on  the  conditions  requisite  to  the  development 
and  establishment  of  a  nation. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  glorify  war.  We  need  only  esti- 
mate our  position  to-day  in  order  to  see  that  the  evil 
results  of  the  war  are  not  confined  to  the  destruction 
of  property,  the  loss  of  life,  and  the  crippling  of  in- 
dustry. There  are  other  results  directly  traceable  to 
war:  diminished  respect  for  law,  love  of  arbitrary 
processes,  respect  for  force,  and  a  tendency  to  sacrifice 
principle  to  a  narrow  expediency,  which  awaken  our 
anxiety  and  demand  our  efforts  to  counteract  them.  In 
view  of  these  evils  and  dangers  we  cannot  glorify  war. 
It  is  a  harsh  experience,  full  of  the  education  and  full  of 
the  evil  which  inheres  in  all  adversity.     One  thing  only 


860  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

we  do  say,  and  we  say  it  with  full  confidence  in  looking 
back  on  our  own  great  strife:  there  is  one  thing  worse 
than  war  and  that  is  peace  in  the  face  of  men  with 
swords  drawn  on  behalf  of  injustice  and  wrong.  War, 
in  its  way,  and  peace,  in  its  way,  are  parts  of  that  great 
discipline  of  adversity  and  prosperity  by  which  God 
makes  men  and  nations  strong. 

These  are  the  thoughts  which  seem  to  me  to  be  in 
place  on  our  "Memorial  Day."  A  nation's  civil  holi- 
days are  an  epitome  of  its  history.  We  have  a  day  on 
which  we  celebrate  the  nation's  birth;  it  surely  is  well 
that  we  should  have  a  day  on  which  we  celebrate  its 
coming  of  age.  But  when  we  meet  to-day,  our  minds 
do  not  revert  to  the  glory  of  victory;  they  dwell  rather 
on  the  memory  of  a  grand  duty  nobly  done.  We  do  not 
celebrate  amidst  the  booming  of  cannon  or  the  noisy 
mirth  of  a  popular  holiday;  we  keep  the  day  sacred  to 
a  pious  duty  in  memory  of  those  who  fell  in  the  great 
struggle.  How  could  we  be  merry  when  every  mind 
runs  over  its  list  of  relatives  and  friends  and  when  each 
recalls  those  in  his  own  circle  of  acquaintances  whose 
lives  were  full  of  promise  of  blessing  to  their  country, 
but  who  to-day  are  not?  The  sun  shines  for  us,  and  we 
laugh  and  are  gay  and  the  world  goes  on  its  course  of 
business  and  pleasure,  of  joy  and  of  enterprise,  and  still 
the  memory  of  the  lost  ones  when  it  revives  is  bright  and 
keen.  Above  their  graves  we  turn  back  to  the  retro- 
spect and  renew  our  vow  that  they  shall  not  have  perished 
in  vain.  We  see  now,  as  they  could  not  see,  all  the 
extent  of  the  cause  for  which  they  died  and  we  resolve 
that  the  nation  for  whose  external  union  they  died  shall 
be  a  nation  indeed.  We  will  carry  on  that  moral  regen- 
eration and  union  which  is  still  necessary  to  consolidate 
their  work.     We  will  establish  the  foundations  of  the 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS  361 

nation  in  firm  convictions  and  true  principles;  we  will 
build  it  up  on  strong  institutions  and  noble  traditions; 
and  we  will  consolidate  its  heterogeneous  elements  into 
a  harmonious  nationality. 

Neither  are  we  met  to-day  to  exult  over  the  defeated 
party  or  to  keep  alive  the  rancor  of  civil  strife.  That 
phase  of  this  celebration  is  fading  —  happily  fading 
out  of  the  public  mind.  Rather,  now  that  the  heat  of 
the  conflict  has  subsided,  we  see  distinctly  the  sad  mis- 
chief of  civil  strife.  The  blows  which  we  struck  were 
blows  at  our  own  body;  the  wounds  which  we  gave  left 
scars  upon  ourselves;  the  destruction  which  we  wrought 
fell  upon  our  own  interests.  This  is  the  fatal  character 
of  all  civil  strife,  that  the  one  commonwealth  suffers 
the  losses  both  of  the  victors  and  the  vanquished.  The 
names  of  places  which  we  inscribe  on  our  monuments 
are  not  those  of  a  foreign  foe;  they  are  our  own  and  a  part 
of  the  inheritance  of  our  children.  Fifty  years  hence, 
when  your  sons  visit  Richmond  and  Charleston,  they 
will  hardly  be  able  to  find  a  rebel  or  the  son  of  a  rebel 
there.  They  will  find  a  new  race,  energetic,  patriotic, 
and  American,  a  race  of  colonists  and  immigrants  from 
the  North  and  from  foreign  lands,  cramped  by  no 
inherited  crime,  warped  by  no  false  traditions,  and  de- 
moralized by  no  discord  between  conscience  and  social 
institutions.  They  will  smile  at  the  old  folly  and 
they  will  not  meet  with  a  frown  the  sons  of  the  victors. 
Already  the  movements  are  in  progress  which  promise 
to  rescue  the  South  from  the  unprincipled  adventurers 
who  have  profited  by  the  transition  period,  and  to  bring 
it  into  political,  social,  and  industrial  harmony  with  the 
rest  of  the  nation.  Already  nature  spreads  her  healing 
hand  to  conceal  the  physical  scars  which  war  had  made. 
The  trees  spring  again  on  the  devastated  hillside.     The 


S62  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

sod  spreads  over  the  half -buried  cannon-ball.  The 
shrubs  and  bushes  obliterate  the  lines  of  the  entrench- 
ments. The  industry  of  man  assists  in  the  same  work, 
and  new  industry  and  new  achievements  spring  up  on 
the  ruins  of  the  old.  It  is  not  the  province  of  Memorial 
Day  to  reverse  or  retard  this  process  and  by  tearing  open 
again  the  old  wounds  to  rescue  anger  and  hate  from  ob- 
livion. Its  province  is  to  keep  alive  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people  the  meaning  and  value  of  the  nation,  the  price 
which  it  cost,  and  the  memory  of  those  who  died  to  pur- 
chase it.  When  men  go  to  war  for  glory,  let  them  have 
their  reward.  Pay  it  in  the  booming  of  cannon,  in  the 
blare  of  trumpets,  and  in  the  tinsel  and  trappings  which 
perish  in  the  using;  but  when  men  go  to  war  for  duty, 
let  them  also  have  their  reward.  Pay  it  in  a  new  devo- 
tion to  the  duty  for  whose  sake  they  fell;  pay  it  in  a 
nobler  zeal  in  behalf  of  our  rescued  country;  pay  it  in 
a  loftier  wisdom  in  public  policy  which  shall  destroy 
abuses  before  they  grow  so  strong  that  it  shall  cost  the 
blood  of  your  sons  to  root  them  out. 


FOR  PRESIDENT? 


FOR  PRESIDENT? » 

[1876] 

On  returning  to  town  last  Saturday,  and  looking  over 
the  file  of  the  Palladium,  I  found  a  letter  by  "Enquirer'* 
in  Thursday's  issue  which  I  may  assume,  without  much 
danger  of  error,  to  refer  to  me.  I  find  nothing  discour- 
teous or  improper  in  the  inquiry  for  whom  I  shall  vote 
for  President,  and  what  my  reasons  are,  if  anybody 
cares  to  ask.  I  have  never  made  any  announcement  of 
my  opinions  and  intentions  because  it  was  not  for  me 
to  assume  tbat  anybody  cared  about  them,  and  also 
because  my  course  was  not,  and  is  not  yet,  so  thoroughly 
satisfactorily  clear  before  myself  that  I  care  to  bring 
my  opinion  voluntarily  before  the  public.  However, 
now  that  I  am  asked,  I  will  reply. 

I  want  to  premise  one  thing.  My  first  responsibility 
is  to  the  University,  and  I  propose  to  be  true  to  that 
before  anything  else.  I  shall  not  compromise  that  for 
political  influence,  and  if,  as  "Enquirer"  says,  a  student 
and  teacher  of  political  science  may  fairly  be  asked  to 
give  his  opinions  and  his  reasons,  it  is  also  true  that  a 
man  who  occupies  a  university  chair  must  be  careful, 
in  political  activity,  whether  he  pulls  down  the  univer- 
sity or  pulls  up  politics.  I  have,  therefore,  carefully 
limited  my  practical  action  in  politics  to  such  duties  as 
are  incumbent  on  every  citizen,  such  as  will  not  inter- 
fere with  my  university  duties,  and  such  as  an  inde- 
pendent scholar  can  pursue  without  any  selfish  interest 
or  danger  to  that  broadest  influence  which  he  ought  to 
seek  to  obtain.     I  therefore  write  now  the  simple,  frank 

*  New  Haven  Palladium,  September  11, 1876. 

[365  ] 


366  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

opinion  of  an  independent  man,  whose  ambition  and 
career  lie  entirely  inside  the  sphere  of  the  university 
teacher.  Such  a  man  is  bound  to  be  honest,  dispas- 
sionate, and  unprejudiced;  to  seek  no  friendships  and 
fear  no  enmities.  His  opinion,  if  it  is  worthy  of  himself 
and  his  position,  must  be  calm,  broad,  fair,  and  sincere. 
I  shall  aim  in  the  present  statement  to  fulfill  this  require- 
ment and  not  to  gain  any  other  point. 

I  observe  that  most  of  the  public  discussions  turn 
upon  the  antecedents,  the  acts,  and  the  characters  of 
the  one  and  the  other  party.  Those  considerations 
have  no  force  at  all  for  my  mind.  I  know  my  neighbors: 
one  of  them  is  a  republican  by  habit  and  the  other  a 
democrat  by  habit,  and  neither  of  them  can  define  his 
party  name.  The  population  is  very  equally  divided 
between  those  who  are  ranged  under  one  banner  and 
those  who  are  ranged  under  the  other.  When,  therefore, 
I  read  the  descriptions  that  party  newspapers  and  party 
orators  give  of  the  opposite  party,  I  look  around  me  for 
the  demons  who  seek  the  national  ruin  and  I  do  not  find 
them.  I  find  neighbors,  some  of  whom  are  under  one 
banner  and  some  under  the  other,  but  in  their  general 
tone,  and  will,  and  intention,  those  of  one  party  are 
just  as  good  and  just  as  bad  as  those  of  the  other.  Es- 
pecially when  I  remember  that  the  social  distribution  of 
the  two  parties  in  the  northern  states  is  exactly  opposite 
to  what  it  is  in  the  southern  states,  it  seems  to  me  that 
the  national  parties  are  very  equally  adjusted  in  regard 
to  the  social,  intellectual,  and  moral  elements  which 
they  contain.  Now  an  historian,  or  a  foreigner,  reading 
the  accounts  which  the  parties  give  of  each  other,  must 
infer  either  that  these  accounts  are  all  false  and  that  they 
simply  constitute  a  depraved  method  of  electioneering 
which  obscures  the  issues  and  prevents  the  people  from 


FOR  PRESIDENT?  367 

really  using  sound  judgment,  or  else  that  they  are  all 
true,  in  which  case  the  people  of  the  United  States  are 
so  unpatriotic,  corrupt,  disloyal,  unjust,  murderous, 
and  venal  that  it  makes  little  difference  what  is  the 
result  of  any  political  struggle.  And  if  we  assume  the 
standpoint  of  either  political  party  and  accept  as  true 
what  it  says  of  the  other,  then  one-half  of  the  population 
of  this  country  are  scoundrels  so  lost  to  honor  and  pa- 
triotism that  no  mere  political  victory  could  prevent 
bankruptcy  in  the  national  morals.  If  it  is  true  of  either 
party  that  no  reform  can  be  expected  of  it,  then  reform 
is  impossible  for  the  nation,  for  one-half  of  the  people 
are  at  least  indifferent  to  it.  I  discard  all  this  argu- 
mentation, therefore,  as  the  kind  of  appeal  to  passion 
and  suspicion  which  befogs  judgment.  I  regard  the 
good  sense,  sound  patriotism,  and  correct  intention  of 
the  masses  of  the  people  in  either  party  as  substantially 
equal.  I  regard  the  evil  elements  in  the  parties  as 
substantially  equal,  and  I  turn  for  my  grounds  of  judg- 
ment to  the  considerations  which  I  think  genuine. 

I  find  these  in  men.  Icannot  trust  a  party;  I  can  trust 
a  man.  I  cannot  hold  a  party  responsible;  I  can  hold  a 
man  responsible.  I  cannot  get  an  expression  of  opinion 
which  is  single  and  simple  from  a  party;  I  can  only 
get  that  from  a  man.  A  party  cannot  have  character, 
or  conscience,  or  reputation;  it  cannot  repent,  nor  endure 
punishment  or  disgrace.  I  know  very  well  that  we  are 
in  the  habit  of  predicating  all  these  things  of  parties, 
but  I  should  think  our  experience  had  offered  the  fullest 
proof  that  we  cannot  properiy  predicate  any  of  these 
things  of  a  party,  except  in  a  broad,  half-metaphorical 
sense,  under  which  all  the  sharpness  and  efliciency  neces- 
sary to  practical  politics  are  lost.  The  proof  is,  at  any 
rate,  satisfactory  to  me. 


368  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

The  answer  will  probably  here  be  made  that  the  party 
elects  the  man,  forms  his  *' backing,"  will  control  his 
policy,  and  will  not  be  ignored.  I  beg  to  call  attention 
here  to  the  illustration  offered  of  the  mischievous  ambig- 
uity in  the  word  party.  I  have  been  speaking  of  parties 
as  great  bodies  of  voters,  but  those  who  present  this  ob- 
jection mean  by  parties  the  group  of  professional  poli- 
ticians who  control  party  machinery.  In  regard  to 
parties  in  that  sense  I  can  only  express  my  opinion, 
without  entering  on  any  accurate  measurement  of  the 
heaps  of  dirt  which  each  has  piled  on  the  other,  that  I, 
or  any  other  similarly  situated  private  and  independent 
voter,  have  nothing  to  choose  between  them.  I  there- 
fore pay  little  heed  to  platforms  and  letters;  I  have  been 
deceived  by  them  until  I  have  lost  all  confidence  in  them 
and  regard  them  much  as  I  do  sensational  advertise- 
ments. 

I  look  at  candidates,  and  if  the  point  be  urged  about 
the  "backing"  of  each  of  the  men  now  before  us,  I 
will  state  just  how  that  appears  to  me.  I  have  no  in- 
formation other  than  what  the  newspapers  have  given 
us  all.  From  their  story  I  do  not  see  how  any  one  can 
feel  respect  for  the  candidature  of  Governor  Hayes. 
It  appears  that  Mr.  Cameron  was  piqued  because  some 
members  of  his  delegation  violated  a  sacred  poKtical 
tradition  and  did  not  throw  the  state  vote  as  a  unit, 
and  he  therefore  refused  to  give  the  state  vote  as  a  unit 
for  their  candidate  at  the  decisive  moment.  The  sen- 
atorial aspirants  could  not  see  the  prize  go  to  either  one 
of  their  own  number  and  agreed  only  that  it  should  not 
go  to  Blaine.  These  two  things  combined  gave  it  to 
Hayes.  At  the  time  I  expressed  the  opinion  that  this 
course  of  events,  when  one  reflected  that  business  in 
hand  was  the  selection  of  a  chief  magistrate  of  the 


FOR  PRESroENT?  369 

nation,  was  a  "farce."  I  did  not  then,  and  do  not  now 
deny  the  possibility  that  Hayes  may  be  the  man  for  the 
crisis.  I  cannot  deny  the  possibility  that,  if  you  shake 
up  the  names  of  eight  million  voters  in  a  box  and  draw 
one  by  lot,  you  may  get  the  one  out  of  the  eight  million 
who  is  best  fitted  for  the  Presidency;  but  we  are  assumed 
to  be  rational  beings,  making  a  selection  on  rational 
grounds,  and  I  think  we  did  ourselves  little  credit  on  that 
occasion  in  that  point  of  view.  Some  of  the  gentlemen 
there  came  home  rejoicing  and  triumphing  over  the  party 
machine;  they  defeated  the  machine  in  its  first  inten- 
tion, but  it  doubled  upon  them  with  its  well-known 
suppleness  and  activity.  Mr.  Hayes  seems  to  be  the 
creature  of  the  machine,  and  to  have  no  other  public 
claim  to  the  Presidency.  He  must  feel  that  his  selec- 
tion is  arbitrary,  that  he  has  everything  yet  to  do  to 
justify  public  confidence  that  he  is  the  recipient  of  an 
"honor."  He  cannot  act  with  the  assured  independence 
of  a  man  who  has  advanced  by  well  earned  steps,  to  whom 
the  Presidency  comes  as  the  highest  trust  at  the  end  of  a 
career,  to  whom  it  is  less  an  honor  than  a  recognition  and 
concession.  If  "backing"  gives  control,  I  should  think 
that  he  was  subjected  to  his  backing  from  the  outset. 

I  am  well  aware  that  Mr.  Tilden  has  no  long  career 
of  public  service  behind  him  and  that  the  theory  of  our 
political  system,  as  I  have  hinted  at  it,  is  not  thoroughly 
fulfilled  in  him.  It  is  a  profound  and  melancholy  re- 
flection, well  worth  every  man's  consideration,  that  our 
public  service  does  not  furnish  a  number  of  tried  states- 
men from  whom  to  select.  I  restrict  myself  now,  how- 
ever, to  the  choice  which  is  the  only  practical  question. 

Mr.  Tilden's  nomination  was  opposed  by  all  the  worst 
elements  of  his  party  and  was  supported  by  as  honest, 
pure,  and  intelligent  men  as  ever  led  in  any  political 


370  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

convention  in  this  country.  Many  of  them  were  young 
men,  representing  the  hope,  strength,  faith,  and  pur- 
pose of  the  younger  half  of  this  generation,  to  which  I 
turned  long  ago  with  all  my  confidence  for  the  national 
future.  I  believe  that  few  men  now  over  forty-five 
appreciate  the  wide  divergence  of  their  political  faiths 
from  those  of  the  men  now  under  forty-five.  Mr. 
Tilden's  nomination  was  wrested  from  this  convention 
by  the  conviction  that  he  was  the  real  leader  of  the 
party,  the  representative  of  its  strength,  the  champion 
of  its  best  principles,  and  the  embodiment  of  its  hope. 
The  party  came  to  him  in  that  sense  and  took  him  for 
its  chief  because  he  was  its  head.  That  this  was  not 
purely  and  consistently  and  thoroughly  true,  belongs  to 
the  nature  of  all  political  parties  and  does  not  invalidate 
the  criticism  as  a  broad  and  sound  one  on  the  action  of 
the  convention.  It  appears  to  me,  therefore,  that  Mr, 
Tilden's  relation  to  his  party  is  that  of  such  dependence 
only  as  properly  exists  between  leader  and  followers. 

The  question  of  the  currency,  to  me,  stands  before 
any  other.  We  must  all  grow  better  together.  The 
sovereign's  conscience  is  always  hardest  to  move.  He 
blames  his  ministers,  his  army,  his  people  —  anybody 
but  himself.  It  is  so  also  of  the  sovereign  people.  We 
are  just  now  treating  some  of  our  old  idols  very  harshly, 
and  we  are  slow  to  learn  that,  if  we  govern  ourselves  and 
have  our  own  way,  we  must  blame  ourselves  for  results. 
If  we  are  to  have  any  reform  which  shall  be  real,  it  must 
begin  and  spread  far  in  the  minds  and  consciences  of 
the  sovereign  people.  We  must  have  a  finer  honor, 
a  higher  tone,  a  severer  standard,  a  more  correct  judg- 
ment about  ourselves.  The  sovereign  people  must  rec- 
ognize their  own  errors  and  follies  and  shoulder  their 
own  blame;  they  must  repent  and  amend,  discard  false 


FOR  PRESIDENT?  S71 

notions,  accept  true  ones,  and  so  put  the  latter  in  prac- 
tice as  to  engender  a  sound  public  opinion  and  an 
incorruptible  public  morality.  As  a  political  measure  to 
help  bring  this  about,  I  place  the  restoration  of  true 
value  money  first  of  all. 

It  appears  to  me  that  Mr.  Tilden  has  shown  a  more 
correct,  detailed,  statesmanlike  knowledge  of  the  evil, 
the  remedy,  and  the  process  of  cure  than  any  other 
public  man  who  is  eligible.  I  say  statesmanlike  knowl- 
edge, because  I  mean  to  distinguish  between  a  lecture 
on  political  economy  which  would  be  suitable  for  me, 
and  the  program  of  a  statesman  which  is  what  we  want 
from  him  —  a  distinction  which  has  rarely  been  ob- 
served in  Congress  or  in  the  Cabinet. 

I  am,  of  course,  utterly  opposed  to  the  repeal  of  the 
resumption  act  or  any  part  of  it,  and  I  disapprove  of 
any  concession  on  that  point,  in  form  or  substance,  by 
Mr.  Tilden  or  anybody  else. 

I  know  that  the  soft-money  democrats  have  claimed 
that  Mr.  Tilden  has  surrendered  on  the  currency  ques- 
tion, and  the  republicans  have  hastened  to  accept  their 
authority  as  conclusive  on  that  point.  Mr.  Tilden's 
opinions  on  this  point  are  not  new,  nor  were  they  first 
placed  before  the  public  in  his  letter,  but  if  he  does  not 
in  that  document  lay  down  hard-money  doctrines,  then 
language  has  no  meaning,  and  I  could  not  express  hard- 
money  doctrines  myself.  The  soft-money  men  have, 
within  a  year  or  two,  begun  to  use  some  hard-money 
phrases  in  forced,  artificial,  and  impossible  applications; 
they  find  those  phrases  in  Mr.  Tilden's  letter,  and  that 
is  the  ground  on  which  they  claim  his  surrender. 

Mr.  Hayes  has  made  a  very  distinct  avowal  that  he 
will  resist  the  repeal  of  the  resumption  act  unless  some- 
thing better  is  put  in  its  place,  and  if  he  is  elected  I  shall 


372  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

certainly  await  with  generous  conjBdence  a  fulfillment  of 
that  pledge.  The  diflSculty  is  just  the  one  which  seems 
to  me  radical  in  his  candidature.  He  may  do  what  he 
says  he  will;  I  am  not  held  to  say  that  he  will  not.  I 
say  only  that  when  I  have  an  act  to  perform  I  must 
look  for  measures  which  have  been  tested;  when  I  want 
work  done,  I  must  look  for  an  agent  in  regard  to  whom 
there  is  some  record,  some  ground  of  belief  in  his  ability 
and  fitness.  Between  two  candidates,  one  of  whom  is 
recommended  to  me  on  the  opinion  of  his  friends,  the 
other  of  whom  has  a  record  of  action  and  achievement 
under  my  knowledge  and  inspection,  my  most  rational 
expectation  of  such  a  performance  as  I  desire  attaches 
to  the  latter. 

I  may  be  told,  here,  that  the  President  cannot  resume 
specie  payments.  He  certainly  cannot  do  more  than  his 
constitutional  share.  We  are  now  talking  about  the 
election  of  a  President  for  so  much  of  the  matter  as 
belongs  to  him,  and  the  objection  is  not  in  point.  How 
much,  at  any  rate,  he  can  leave  undone  we  now  see  by 
facts  before  us.  I  never  judged  the  resumption  act 
favorably;  it  did  not  seem  to  me  to  make  practical 
provision  for  the  requisite  financial  measures.  Others, 
whose  opinion  is  worth  far  more  than  mine  on  a  point 
of  law,  agree  that  it  is  practical  in  respect  to  the  means 
it  provides;  but  the  administration  has  not  taken  those 
means  and  nothing  has  been  done.  If  we  get  a  President 
who  knows  what  to  do,  and  how  to  do  it,  and  who  has 
the  will  to  do  it,  it  will  be  our  own  fault  if  we  do  not 
elect  a  Congress  to  co-operate  with  him. 

I  put  next  in  this  canvass  the  matter  of  administrative 
reform.  Mr.  Tilden  has  been  governor  of  the  state 
which  has  led  in  the  demoralization  of  our  politics 
since  the  beginning  of  the  century.     He  has  had  the 


FOR  PRESIDENT?  373 

hardest  position  for  beginning  reform,  perhaps,  which 
there  is  in  the  Union;  but  he  has  made,  at  the  risk  of 
his  own  poHtical  fortunes,  the  only  positive  and  success- 
ful steps  towards  it  which  I  know  of  in  the  country.  The 
newspaper  exposures  of  the  Tweed  ring  would  have  made 
no  more  impression  on  that  body  than  the  pattering  of 
rain  on  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros,  and  the  members  of  the 
ring  would  to-day  have  been  flaunting  their  stolen  wealth 
in  the  face  of  the  public  if  Mr.  Tilden  had  not  reduced 
their  guilt  to  an  arithmetical  demonstration,  available 
in  a  court  of  law.  The  Canal  ring  fight  is  known  to 
everybody.  The  governor  of  New  York  cannot  put  a 
man  in  a  state  prison  because  he  is  convinced  that  he 
has  stolen  public  money,  and  if  the  judicial  system  of 
New  York  is  such  that  conviction  and  sentence  cannot 
be  secured,  it  is  the  judicial  system  which  the  people  have 
given  themselves  by  their  representatives.  If  they 
reform  themselves  they  will  raise  their  standard  of  fitness 
in  candidates  for  the  legislature.  New  legislators  will 
make  new  laws  and  judicial  systems.  Public  adminis- 
trators, if  dishonest,  will  then  find  a  surer  path  to  the 
penitentiary,  and  their  number  will  diminish;  but  I  do 
not  see  how  this  sequence  can  be  started  anywhere  but 
at  its  beginning. 

I  have  in  mind,  however,  not  only  these  "reform" 
efforts,  but  also  administrative  reform.  I  will  take  a 
single  case  which  floated  in  a  paragraph  through  the 
newspapers,  occasioning,  so  far  as  I  ever  saw,  very  little 
attention,  but  which  had  an  immense  effect  on  my  mind 
and  which  I  have  often  urged  in  private  conversation. 

It  was  stated  that  the  politicians  of  the  southern 
tier  of  counties  of  New  York  were  bitterly  hostile  to 
Governor  Tilden.  The  reasons  were  given,  two  in 
number:    (1)  Mr.  Tilden  had  refused  to  remove  the  re- 


874  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

publican  superintendent  of  the  asylum  at  Elmira  in 
order  to  appoint  a  democrat;  (2)  Mr.  Tilden  had  re- 
moved, for  cause,  the  corporation  counsel  of  Elmira,  who 
was  a  democrat,  although  the  common  council  of  city 
was  republican  and  could  elect  a  republican  successor. 
These  were  good  grounds  for  the  opposition  of  the 
"politicians,"  but  they  were  an  imperative  demand 
on  me,  if  I  was  an  "Independent"  and  meant  what  I 
had  been  talking  about  for  years,  to  give  him  my  full, 
hearty,  and  eflScient  support,  if  it  ever  came  in  my  way. 
This  was  not  popular  reform;  it  was  administrative 
reform  of  the  hardest  kind.  All  question  of  motives, 
of  aflBliations,  of  party  antecedents,  falls  to  the  ground 
when  I  see  a  public  officer  doing  just  what  we  want  done 
and  what  we  have  been  vainly  begging  some  public  oflScer 
to  do;  and  when  I  see  him  engaged  in  a  desperate  fight 
on  account  of  it,  I  care  nothing  for  any  such  objections. 
My  business  is  to  give  him  recognition  and  support, 
and  when  we  want  a  man  for  a  larger  sphere,  I  know  of  no 
one  more  fit,  or  from  whom  we  can,  with  more  confidence, 
expect  what  we  want.  As  for  motives,  I  can  judge  a 
man's  motives  only  by  his  acts;  I  am  tired  of  being  asked 
to  believe  that  a  man  who  has  committed  some  rascality 
had  nevertheless  a  good  motive,  and  that  a  man  who 
has  done  well  had  only  a  selfish  impulse.  That  Mr. 
Tilden  is  politician  enough  to  be  available  is  only  an 
advantage,  since  we  cannot  get  an  angel  with  a  flaming 
sword;  and  I  think  that  we  independents  have  cast 
worse  reproach  upon  ourselves  than  our  most  sarcastic 
critics,  since  we  have  failed  to  seize  upon  a  chance  which 
offered  itself  to  our  demand  and  have  chosen  to  trust 
to  a  groundless  faith  and  a  hope  for  which  we  cannot 
give  a  reason. 

In  this  latter  light  I  must  be  allowed,  without  offense. 


FOR  PRESIDENT?  375 

to  regard  the  support  of  Governor  Hayes.  It  may  be 
accepted  upon  the  testimony  of  his  friends  that  he  is  a 
gentleman  of  integrity,  high  character,  and  spotless 
honor.  Beyond  this,  however,  when  the  question  arises 
as  to  whether  he  has  the  independent  judgment,  the  orig- 
inal force  of  mind,  the  staying-power,  which  are  wanted 
in  the  next  President  of  the  United  States,  neither  his 
friends  nor  any  one  else  can  say  more  than  "we  believe" 
that  he  has.  That  he  has  not  the  wide  experience  requi- 
site is  certain.  I  repeat  what  I  am  not  held  to  say  that 
he  has  not  the  former  qualities  —  perhaps  he  has  them. 
The  point  is,  if  I  am  asked  to  vote  for  him,  that  I  have 
a  right  to  demand  to  know  that  he  has  them,  or  else, 
as  between  him  and  another  who  has  given  guarantees, 
sound  judgment  forces  me  to  choose  the  latter.  I 
received  a  letter  a  while  ago  from  a  friend  of  Governor 
Hayes,  who  declared  that  Governor  Hayes  was  a  very 
modest  man  whose  modesty  prevented  him  from  accept- 
ing the  United  States  Senatorship.  I  quote  it  as  an 
instance  of  what  seems  to  me  wrong  reasoning  on  these 
matters.  If  Governor  Hayes  is  such  a  man  as  is  now 
claimed,  it  seems  to  me  he  is  just  the  man  we  have 
sadly  needed  in  the  Senate  for  the  last  few  years,  and  if 
he  refused  to  go,  he  turned  his  back  on  the  call  of  public 
duty.  I  do  not  deny  his  right  to  refuse,  although  in 
general  I  hold  it  sound  doctrine  that  a  man  of  good 
health  and  independent  fortune  ought  to  serve  the  state 
when  duly  and  honorably  selected;  but  if  Mr.  Hayes 
was  ever  to  he  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency,  he  ought  to 
have  pursued  a  public  career  in  the  subordinate  places 
which  opened  to  him,  he  ought  to  have  allowed  us  to 
see  him  in  those  places,  and  he  ought  to  have  made  a 
record  on  which  we  could  form  a  judgment  to-day  and 
not  be  thrown  on  the  say-so  of  his  friends.     If  he  is  to 


376  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

be  elected,  I  shall  certainly  not  prejudge  him  nor  allow 
any  prejudice  to  arise  in  my  mind,  but  when  I  look  back 
on  former  cases  in  which  the  campaign  enthusiasm  has 
surrounded  an  untried  man  with  a  halo  which  has 
subsequently  faded  into  something  worse  than  obscurity, 
my  imagination  refuses  to  act. 

Another  point  in  this  canvass  which  very  deeply 
interests  me  is  the  condition  and  future  of  the  South. 
The  campaign  seems  to  be  turning  more  and  more  to 
that  issue  after  all,  and  it  seems  to  be  found  that  distrust 
of  rebels  and  the  old  war  spirit  are  still  so  strong  as  to 
be  the  best  available  campaign  capital.  If  that  is  to 
be  so,  then  I  must  take  sides  against  any  further  ad- 
ministration of  the  affairs  of  the  South  by  the  North 
acting  through  the  general  government.  I  have  had 
occasion  within  a  year  to  review  the  whole  history  of 
reconstruction.  The  effect  upon  my  mind  has  been 
shame  and  blame  to  myself  for  the  share  which  I,  as  a 
republican,  have  had  in  helping  to  build  up  the  worst 
legislation  of  the  nineteenth  century.  I  have  been 
shocked  to  realize  by  what  successive  stages  we  have 
erected  here  a  system  of  restrictive  and  coercive  legisla- 
tion which  very  few  northern  republicans  know  in  even 
its  broadest  features;  and  I  can  only  recognize  in  dis- 
order, riot,  misrule,  irresponsible  oflScial  tyranny,  and 
industrial  loss,  the  results  which  have  followed  every- 
where in  history  from  coercive  legislation  enacted  by  one 
community  against  another.  The  republican  candidate 
for  the  Vice-Presidency  devoted  his  letter  of  acceptance 
almost  exclusively  to  the  Southern  question.  He  believes 
that  the  Southern  States  are  not  civilized  up  to  the 
standard  of  the  Northern  States,  and  he  wants  to  bring 
them  up.  I  agree  with  him  that  they  are  on  a  lower 
grade,  but  I  submit  that  it  is  not  his  business  nor  ours 


FOR  PRESIDENT?  377 

to  civilize  them  by  any  political  measures.  Communities 
do  not  take  kindly  to  that  kind  of  school-mastering,  and 
I  see  in  such  a  spirit  only  a  threat  of  further  interfer- 
ence, further  coercion,  further  resistance,  and  prolonged 
trouble.  The  Southern  States  have  on  their  hands  a 
race  problem  of  the  first  magnitude;  they  will  have  all 
they  can  do  to  manage  it,  if  they  are  left  free  under  the 
natural  social  and  economic  laws.  They  think,  gen- 
erally, that  a  black  man  is  not  the  equal  of  a  white  man, 
which  is  not  an  essential  question  in  the  problem;  but 
the  Northern  communities,  a  thousand  miles  away,  insist 
that  they  shall  first  change  their  minds  on  that  dogmatic 
point,  and  proceed  to  try  to  coerce  their  opinions.  I 
think  that  Southern  people  are  unwise  and  narrow  in 
very  many  of  their  notions,  but  the  only  practical 
question  is  how  to  deal  with  erroneous  opinions.  Can 
we  ever  coerce  opinions.'*  Do  we  not  all  know  rather 
that  if  we  leave  unwise  men  to  pursue  their  folly,  their 
own  experience  will  teach  them,  but  that  if  we  attempt 
to  impose  contrary  opinions,  we  shall  only  lead  them 
to  cling  to  their  errors  as  the  most  sacred  faiths?  I, 
therefore,  desire  now,  as  regards  this  political  question, 
that  the  South  be  left  to  work  out  its  own  social  prob- 
lems under  no  arbitrary  political  coercion,  but  simply 
under  the  constraint  of  social  and  economic  forces.  I 
want  the  Northern  opinions  kept  to  their  own  sphere  of 
action,  and  the  local  self-government  left  free  to  act  in 
the  South  under  the  plan  and  intention  of  our  Constitu- 
tion, without  which  the  Union  is  imp>ossible.  If  the 
Union  is  really  secured  and  is  to  last,  it  must  do  so  under 
peace  between  its  parts  and  not  under  war,  either  mili- 
tary or  political.  I  therefore  condemn  the  attempt  to 
revive  and  use  the  old  war  passions,  suspicion,  dread, 
or  hostility.     When  it  is  done  by  demagogues  I  perceive 


378  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

in  it  only  their  natural  and  disastrous  activity;  but 
when  it  is  done  by  men  of  principle,  who  have  some 
knowledge  of  history,  of  constitutional  law,  and  of  the 
science  of  government,  I  see  in  it  only  a  proof  of  how 
hard  it  is  to  resist  the  current  of  party  opinion,  and  the 
consistency  of  political  passion.  As  for  dread  of  the 
Southern  influence  in  the  general  government,  I  would 
rather  trust  to-morrow,  either  on  pecuniary  or  political 
questions,  to  a  Congress  made  up  entirely  of  ex-Con- 
federates, then  to  one  made  up  of  such  men  as  the 
Southern  republican  representatives  have  been  since  re- 
construction. The  man  who  won  more  of  my  respect 
than  any  other  man  in  the  last  Congress  was  Randall 
Gibson,  a  democrat  and  an  ex-rebel;  if  the  South  has 
any  more  such  rebel  brigadiers  I  would  like  to  help  get 
them  back  into  politics,  especially  now  that  General 
Butler  is  going  down  to  fight  them. 

Finally,  in  regard  to  another  matter  which  I  have 
very  much  at  heart,  but  which  is  hardly  an  active  issue 
in  the  campaign,  whatever  hope  there  is  for  free  trade 
lies  in  the  election  of  Tilden. 

I  have  not  written  this  to  convert  anybody,  or  do  any- 
thing but  state  my  opinions  and  feelings  fully.  I  there- 
fore add,  with  perfect  frankness,  that  there  is  much  in 
the  canvass  which  I  do  not  like  and  which  makes  a 
decision  difficult.  I  find  that  this  has  been  the  case  with 
independent  men  in  almost  every  election  since  that  of 
John  Adams.  In  this  case  I  find  it  very  hard  to  vote 
for  a  Vice-President  whom  I  think  unfit  for  the  Presi- 
dency, should  he  be  called  to  it.  Moreover,  I  cannot 
be  thoroughly  satisfied  where  any  floating  doubt  remains 
in  regard  to  the  life-long  uprightness  of  a  candidate, 
but  I  shall  try,  even  here,  to  keep  my  judgment  clear. 
I  cannot  be  carried  away  by  the  hot  and  exaggerated 


FOR  PRESIDENT?  S79 

assertion  of  a  campaign  charge  whose  injustice  is  ap- 
parent in  its  form  of  statement,  which  I  am  not  com- 
petent to  investigate,  and  which  cannot  be  properly 
tried  by  anybody.  I  cannot  be  affected  by  a  charge 
which  is  no  charge,  but  only  a  challenge  to  a  man  to 
divulge  his  private  affairs.  Above  all  I  shall  not 
commit  that  folly  into  which  some,  trusting  in  the  moral 
fervor  of  the  Independents,  seem  anxious  to  drive  them, 
to  hang  an  important  political  decision  on  disapproval 
of  the  course  of  conduct  adopted  by  a  man  at  one  or 
another  point  of  a  long  business  and  professional  career, 
to  the  disregard  of  all  the  properly  political  considera- 
tions involved  for  the  present  or  future.  If,  then,  a 
decision  is  forced  upon  me,  I  simply  judge,  on  all  the 
information  I  possess,  that  Mr.  Tilden  has  more  knowl- 
edge, ability,  skill,  and  will  to  do  what  I  want  to  see  done 
in  politics,  than  Mr.  Hayes.  Nevertheless,  I  am  not 
called  upon  to  bind  or  pledge  myself  in  any  way,  and  I 
hold  myself  free  to  take  any  course  which  may,  upon 
further  information  or  reflection,  seem  best.  However 
the  election  may  result,  I  shall  be  guided  in  my  rela- 
tions to  the  next  administration  entirely  by  its  per- 
formances in  regard  to  the  matters  I  have  here  discussed. 


FOREWORD  TO  "LYNCH-LAW" 


FOREWORD  TO  "LYNCH-LAW'i 

[1905] 

Few  people  are  able  to  read  about  lynch-executions, 
with  atrocious  forms  of  torture  and  cruel  death,  such 
as  have  occurred  from  time  to  time  within  ten  years  in 
this  country,  without  a  feeling  of  national  shame.  It 
is  necessary  that  facts  should  be  known  and  that  public 
opinion  should  be  corrected  as  to  the  ethics  of  that 
mode  of  dealing  with  crime.  Lynch-law  is  a  very  dif- 
ferent thing  where  laws  and  civil  institutions  are  in  full 
force  and  activity  from  what  it  is  where  they  are  want- 
ing. It  is  not  admissible  that  a  self-governing  democ- 
racy should  plead  the  remissness  of  its  own  selected 
agents  as  an  excuse  for  mob-violence.  It  is  a  disgrace 
to  our  civilization  that  men  can  be  put  to  death  by 
painful  methods,  which  our  laws  have  discarded  as 
never  suitable,  and  without  the  proofs  of  guilt  which 
our  laws  call  for  in  any  case  whatsoever.  It  would  be 
a  disgrace  to  us  if  amongst  us  men  should  burn  a  rattle- 
snake or  a  mad  dog.  The  badness  of  the  victim  is  not 
an  element  in  the  case  at  all.  Torture  and  burning  are 
forbidden,  not  because  the  victim  is  not  bad  enough, 
but  because  we  are  too  good.  It  is  on  account  of  what 
we  owe  to  ourselves  that  these  methods  are  shameful 
to  us,  if  we  descend  to  them.  It  is  evident,  however, 
that  public  opinion  is  not  educated  up  to  this  level. 
The  reader  of  the  present  book  will  learn  very  interest- 

» By  James  Elbert  Cutler 
[383] 


384  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

ing  facts  about  the  causes  alleged  for  lynching,  and 
about  the  public  view  of  that  crime.  Many  current 
errors  will  be  corrected,  and  many  notions  which  are 
irrelevant,  although  they  are  popularly  believed  to  be 
germane  and  important,  will  be  set  aside. 


FOREWORD  TO  "THE  ANTHRACITE  COAL 
INDUSTRY" 


FOREWORD   TO   "THE  ANTHRACITE   COAL 
INDUSTRY  "1 

[1901] 

The  anthracite  coal  industry  ranks  as  one  of  the 
most  important  in  the  United  States,  not  so  much  on 
account  of  its  magnitude  as  on  account  of  its  peculiar 
position  in  our  industrial  system,  and  the  great  number 
of  social  and  economic  questions  which  cluster  around 
it.  It  is  a  limited  natural  monopoly.  It  is  an  extrac- 
tive industry,  the  stock  of  which  is  exhausted  as  it  is 
exploited.  All  the  facts  which  can  be  learned  about  it 
are,  therefore,  as  interesting  to  the  investor  as  to  the 
economist  and  geologist.  The  amount  of  supply,  and 
the  length  of  time  before  it  will  be  exhausted,  are  mat- 
ters of  public  welfare.  Economizing  of  the  supply  and 
improvement  of  the  methods  of  working,  therefore, 
interest  us  all.  The  policy  of  management  of  the 
industry  has  turned  upon  a  series  of  most  interesting 
and  important  changes  in  labor  supply,  modes  of  trans- 
portation, aggregation  of  capital,  and  legislation.  There- 
fore we  have  here  a  most  instructive  history  for  the 
statesman  and  man  of  affairs.  The  industry  has  also 
been  the  arena  of  many  experiments  in  labor  organiza- 
tion, and  of  many  industrial  wars  over  wages,  hours, 
rules,  methods,  etc.  It  brings  into  co-operation  a 
variety  of  interests,  mining,  transportation,  banking; 
and  the  suodivision  of  interests  is  such  that  the  industry, 
as  a  whole,  is  a  cluster  of  interests  which  it  is  no  easy 

*  By  Peter  Roberts 
[3871 


388  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

matter  to  bring  into  harmony.  The  miners  form  a 
community  which  is  to  a  certain  extent  isolated  and 
peculiar.  It  is  not  easily  acted  upon  by  currents  of 
thought  which  are  strong  in  the  rest  of  the  state,  and  it 
is,  at  the  same  time,  open  to  agitation  and  internal 
commotion  and  strife,  or  to  temporary  fits  of  feeling  and 
irregular  notions.  Hence  arise  peculiar  and  important 
social  phenomena  in  mining  towns  where  laborers  of 
different  nationalities  are  assembled.  The  position 
of  women  and  children,  the  relations  of  marriage  and 
the  family,  the  condition  of  churches  and  schools,  all 
tend  to  become  anomalous,  and  strange  or  hostile  to 
our  civilization. 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  TO  COURSES 
IN  POLITICAL  AND  SOCIAL  SCIENCE 


INTRODUCTORY    LECTURE    TO    COURSES   IN 
POLITICAL  AND   SOCIAL  SCIENCE 

[1873] 

Three  things  are  necessary  for  a  student  who  is  to 
acquire  intelligently  a  new  branch  of  knowledge  under  a 
teacher.  First,  an  idea  of  the  importance  of  the  sub- 
ject; second,  an  idea  of  the  method  of  the  teacher;  and 
third,  some  notion  of  the  outlook,  that  is  to  say,  of  the 
thing  to  be  acquired.  I  propose  in  this  lecture  to  give 
a  program  of  the  year's  work  in  this  department,  as 
well  in  the  graduate  as  in  the  undergraduate  schools, 
and  my  aim  is  to  supply  as  well  as  I  can  the  three 
requisites  mentioned. 

There  is  a  necessity  for  such  a  lecture  in  this  depart- 
ment, which  does  not  exist  in  any  other.  Almost  every- 
one has  some  idea  of  the  range,  meaning,  purpose  and 
method  of  the  sciences  which  are  taught  in  a  univer- 
sity, but  I  doubt  very  much  if  there  is  any  but  the  most 
vague  notion  in  the  popular  mind  of  what  is  meant  by 
political  science,  in  either  its  narrower  or  its  wider  sig- 
nificance. It  is  not  generally  understood  what  it  aims 
at,  how  it  teaches,  what  its  methods  are,  nor  what  guar- 
antee there  is  for  its  results.  Let  us  try  first  to  arrive 
at  a  conception  of  these  points. 

You  are  aware  that  the  civilization  of  mankind  has 
proceeded  by  stages  and  that  its  course  has  been  one 
of  development  and  progress.  This  progress  has  been 
from  the  simple  towards  the  complex.  Institutions  have 
been  multiplied,  functions  in  the  body  social  have  been 

1391] 


392  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

divided  and  subdivided,  interests  have  increased  in  num- 
ber and  have  been  more  and  more  interlaced  with  each 
other,  classes  and  professions  have  arisen  which  were 
formerly  unknown.  We  can  no  longer  divide  society 
exhaustively  into  upper,  lower,  and  middle  classes.  In 
this  country,  at  least,  such  a  division  would  have  no 
meaning.  Government  has  passed  through  successive 
forms  and  stages,  which  we  generally  regard  as  succes- 
sive improvements,  until  now  government  is  a  complex 
machine,  with  numerous  departments,  diverse  organs, 
complex  functions,  and  above  all  an  abstraction  called 
law  which  determines  the  method  of  operation  of  all  the 
parts.  A  nation  is  no  longer  a  horde  of  individuals  fol- 
lowing the  command  of  one  man.  It  is  a  vast  or- 
ganism. Its  members  are  endowed  with  free  will  to 
determine  their  own  acts  in  accordance  with  their  own 
wishes.  They  undertake  independent  enterprises  of 
wide  scope;  they  select  their  own  combinations  into 
which  they  enter;  they  form  their  own  opinions  of 
what  is  wise  and  right  and  true.  They  find  in  all  this 
that  they  are  inextricably  entangled  with  each  other. 
Society  is  solidified  and  bound  together  by  these 
numerous  bonds,  and  we  find  that  it  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  us  that  our  neighbors,  as  well  as  our- 
selves, be  wise  and  prudent,  for  we  see  that  their 
folly  or  wisdom  reacts  upon  us  as  ours  upon  them. 
We  can  no  longer  appeal  to  some  supreme  ruler  to  make 
others  do  what  they  ought  to  do  in  the  interest  of  all. 
We  must  get  together  and  by  common  consent  agree 
upon  what  we  will  do,  what  concessions  we  will  make  to 
the  common  interest,  what  efforts  we  will  contribute  to 
the  general  welfare.  We  can  no  longer  get  the  social 
body  regulated  by  instructing  a  prince  or  a  few  niinis- 
ters;    we  must  mold  public  opinion  —  this  new  power 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  393 

until  recently  unknown  as  a  social  force,  but  now  seen 
to  be  the  great  engine  which  controls  the  whole.  So 
too  we  find  that  the  government,  however  free  may  be  its 
form,  inherits  traditions  and  bears  names  of  authority. 
Power  of  control  must  be  lodged  somewhere,  at  least 
as  a  reserve  for  those  cases  in  which  malice,  evil,  and 
passion  raise  their  heads.  But  those  who  are  clothed 
with  this  power  undergo  an  inevitable  temptation  to 
abuse  it.  They  have  an  opportunity  to  exert  upon  the 
social  body  a  power  not  justly  theirs  as  individuals. 
They  may  use  this  influence  selfishly  for  themselves  or 
their  favorites.  For  the  more  completely  we  popularize 
a  government,  the  more  we  trust  it;  we  put  our  inter- 
ests of  all  kinds  at  its  mercy.  Hence  it  occurs  that  the 
government,  either  ignorantly  from  want  of  knowledge 
to  use  the  great  powers  it  possesses  for  the  general  good, 
or  with  corrupt  motive,  inflicts  harm  upon  the  citizen. 
It  is,  therefore,  necessary  for  us  to  agree  what  powers 
we  will  give  to  the  oflicers  of  government,  and  what  re- 
strictions we  will  put  upon  them.  Our  determinations 
in  regard  to  these  things  —  what  we  will  do  and  allow  to 
be  done,  or  what  we  will  not  do  or  not  allow  to  be  done 
by  each  other;  what  things  the  government  shall  do  or 
shall  not  do  on  our  behalf  —  constitute  the  body  of  our 
laws.  Still  again:  when  the  mass  of  the  population 
governs,  an  important  question  arises  as  to  how  its  will 
is  to  reach  an  expression.  An  opportunity  offers  itself 
for  manipulating  this  body  in  order  to  make  it  do  what 
a  few  desire  that  it  shall  do.  Every  such  body  is  subject 
to  manipulation  and  any  clique,  party,  or  corporation 
which  has  a  definite  object  which  it  pursues  steadily 
and  energetically,  is  able  to  lead  the  mass  of  uninstructed 
or  indifferent  citizens. 

This  is  especially  the  case  with  regard  to  party  govern- 


394  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

ment  —  and  no  other  kind  of  government  is  possible,  so 
far  as  we  can  yet  see,  in  a  republic.  The  party  tends  to 
become  a  unit  inside  of  the  nation.  It  acquires  vested 
interests,  traditions,  history,  glory,  all  of  which  give  it 
momentum.  It  is  able  to  carry  measures  under  the 
party  name  irrespective  of  their  wisdom.  It  is  able  to 
cover  up  and  conceal  wrongs  under  the  mantle  of  past 
achievements.  Its  watchwords  and  its  slang  acquire  in- 
fallible authority.  When  a  party  has  reached  this  stage, 
it  is  a  valuable  piece  of  property.  It  is  like  an  army 
trained  and  disciplined  to  obey  orders  without  asking 
questions  or  making  objections.  Then  the  question  is, 
who  is  to  command;  and  a  man  or  a  clique  who  holds 
the  authority  over  it  can  do  with  it  what  he  chooses.  It 
is  a  machine  all  finished  and  oiled  to  work  smoothly  and 
it  obeys  as  well  one  hand  on  the  lever  as  another. 

Hence  arise  a  mass  of  questions  as  to  the  means  to 
be  used  for  securing  a  true,  spontaneous,  and  original 
expression  of  public  opinion;  and  the  answers  to  these 
questions  are  not  always  laws,  though  they  may  require 
that  authority,  but  they  are  political  usages  applying 
to  the  constitution  of  party  committees,  the  authority 
of  caucuses,  the  rules  of  the  primary  meeting,  the  bind- 
ing force  of  party  nomination,  and  also  the  forms  of 
legislative  procedure. 

You  see  then  that  in  our  modern  society  changes  of 
immense  scope  have  been  made  in  the  fundamental 
principles  of  the  social  order.  All  traditions  of  govern- 
ment and  society  have  been  called  in  question  and  put 
on  trial.  New  interests,  new  institutions,  new  faiths, 
new  conceptions  of  life  have  arisen  within  two  or  three 
centuries.  Industry  and  commerce  have  changed  their 
form,  education  has  been  revolutionized,  the  press  has 
come  into  being.     Now  the  question  arises  as  to  what 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  395 

regulations  we  shall  adopt  for  the  constitution  of  the 
social  body  under  this  new  state  of  things.  The  tradi- 
tions and  usages  of  past  ages  are  broken,  or  at  least  dis- 
credited. New  conditions  require  new  institutions  and 
we  turn  away  from  tradition  and  prescription  to  re-ex- 
amine the  data  from  which  we  may  learn  what  principles 
of  the  social  order  are  true,  that  is,  conform  to  human 
nature  and  to  the  conditions  of  human  society.  This 
inquiry  embraces  political  economy,  or  the  science  of 
wealth,  as  well  as  comparative  politics,  jurisprudence, 
international  law,  the  theory  of  the  state,  the  theory  of 
government,  and  the  history  of  all  these.  This  is  politi- 
cal science  in  its  widest  sense  and  this  I  propose  to  make 
the  subject  of  my  lectures  to  the  graduates  during  the 
present  term.  I  call  it  the  Encyclopaedia  of  Political 
Science,  borrowing  the  name  the  Germans  have  given 
to  it.  It  treats  of  the  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  the 
science  and  of  their  relation  to  each  other,  serving  to 
map  out  the  whole  field,  giving  a  brief  description  of 
each  part,  and  preparing  the  way  for  further  intelligent 
study  of  details.  I  desire  now  to  show  what  the  im- 
mediate, practical,  and  specific  importance  of  political 
science  is  for  us  Americans  of  to-day,  assuming  the 
existing  constitution  as  permanent  and  not  subject  to 
question. 

Here  I  meet  with  an  embarrassment  which  oppresses 
every  teacher  in  the  same  situation.  On  the  one  hand 
is  my  obligation  to  truth  which  compels  me  to  speak 
fully  and  boldly  in  regard  to  our  national  affairs  at  the 
present  moment,  and  on  the  other  hand  is  my  duty  as 
an  instructor  of  the  young  men  of  the  country  to  train 
them  to  respect  the  institutions  and  the  government  of 
their  native  land.  I  should  be  glad  to  do  justice  to  the 
latter  duty.    I  consider  it  a  sad  thing  that  the  favorite 


396  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

subjects  for  college  exercises  should  be  the  corruption 
and  misbehavior  of  the  public  men  of  the  country.  I 
dislike  to  hear  the  government  of  the  country  referred 
to  in  terms  of  commonplace  contempt  by  young  men 
who,  by  reason  of  youth,  ought  to  be  ultra-patriotic,  if 
anything,  and  yet  I  cannot  rebuke  it  because  I  know  how 
much  ground  there  is  for  it.  I  dislike  to  hear  politicians 
sneered  at  and  the  career  of  politics  tossed  aside  as  if  it 
were  the  career  of  a  swindler,  for  I  hold  politics  —  or,  if 
we  must  abandon  the  degraded  word,  statesmanship  — 
to  be  the  grandest  calling  open  to  men;  and  yet,  if  a 
young  friend  of  mine  goes  into  pohtics  I  feel  misgivings 
for  his  future,  not  lest  he  may  not  get  rich,  for  that  is 
probable  enough,  but  lest  he  may  lose  the  manliness  and 
honor  of  a  gentleman  and  may  acquire  the  character  of 
an  intriguer  and  a  gambler.  But  my  duty  to  scientific 
truth  is  here  paramount  to  all  others  and  the  degraded 
state  of  American  politics  and  public  life  is  the  evil 
with  which  I  have  to  deal.  I  can  no  more  avoid  describ- 
ing it  than  a  physician  lecturing  on  pathology  could 
desist  from  the  description  of  a  loathsome  disease. 
I  desire  only  that  I  may  not  be  ranked  amongst  those 
dilettante  politicians  and  essayists  who  sneer  at  every- 
thing American  as  a  means  of  showing  their  elevated 
culture,  nor  with  those  flaccid  cosmopolitans  who  boast 
of  being  superior  to  narrow  claims  of  nationality  and  who 
certainly  do  their  duty  by  no  nation. 

The  American  Constitution,  at  the  time  at  which  it 
was  formed,  embodied  the  most  advanced  doctrines  of 
political  science  which  had  then  been  developed.  The 
courage  with  which  the  men  of  that  day  grasped  these 
advanced  principles  and  embodied  them  in  their  new 
scheme  of  government  excites  admiration  and  astonish- 
ment.    During  the  first  years  of  our  national  life  the 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  887 

few  limitations  on  popular  sovereignty  which  the  Fed- 
eral party  had  retained  were  overthrown.  Since  that 
time  we  have  added  nothing  to  the  world's  knowledge 
or  experience  of  political  science.  It  has,  on  the  con- 
trary, been  demonstrated  in  our  history  that  representa- 
tive government  is,  as  yet,  by  no  means  perfect,  but 
that  much  yet  remains  to  be  done  to  elaborate  a  system 
of  such  government  which  shall  be  efficient  and  shall  be 
guarded  against  evils  —  evils  which,  though  different  in 
form,  are  as  grievous  as  those  which  are  incidental  to 
other  forms  of  government.  We  have  seen  the  depart- 
ments of  the  government  degenerate,  the  judiciary  for- 
feit the  respect  of  the  people,  the  legislature  fall  under 
the  manipulations  of  the  lobby,  the  executive  trans- 
gress the  bounds  of  its  authority  to  interfere  in  local 
affairs,  the  machinery  of  parties  get  into  the  hands  of  a 
set  of  men  without  character,  who  make  a  living  which 
they  could  earn  in  no  other  way  by  low  political  in- 
trigues. We  have  come  to  regard  the  touch  of  politics 
as  carrying  contagion  to  religion,  to  education,  to  every 
interest  which  it  touches,  and  yet,  under  our  system  of 
government  and  society  I  beg  you  to  notice  that  we  can- 
not separate  politics  from  one  or  all  of  these  things.  Our 
politics  are  our  public  life.  Our  society  is  and  must  be 
and  ought  to  be  nothing  but  our  politics.  We  have 
brought  state,  government,  politics,  down  into  every 
man's  keeping.  We  have  developed  a  civilization  in 
which  no  man  and  no  interest  stands  alone,  and  our 
political  life  is  in  and  pervades  all  our  national  life  to 
bring  either  health  or  decay.  It  must  touch  everything. 
Those  things  which  we  try  to  keep  aloof  from  it  are  lan- 
guishing on  account  of  their  separation  from  the  real 
vital  pulse  of  the  nation.  Our  religion  is  dying  out  be- 
cause it  is  divorced  from  the  living  interests  of  the  na- 


S98  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tion.  Our  educational  institutions  are  far  short  of  what 
they  ought  to  be  because  they  cannot  be  entrusted  to  the 
care  of  the  state,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  our  educated 
men  miss  their  share,  their  due  influence  on  the  public 
life  of  the  nation.  They  are  regarded  almost  like  for- 
eign intruders  on  that  field.  What  then?  Ought  we  to 
commit  these  institutions  to  the  state  as  it  is.''  We  dare 
not  and  cannot.  The  fate  of  the  churches  which  have 
made  this  alliance  and  the  shameful  history  of  the  agri- 
cultural college  land-grants  forbids  it.  We  must,  how- 
ever, understand  that  the  regeneration  of  our  political 
system  is  on  that  account  only  the  more  imperative  and 
that  we  must  seek  its  regeneration  by  returning  to  first 
principles  and  applying  them  with  scientific  rigor.  I 
propose  to  give  a  xiourse  of  lectures  on  the  political 
and  financial  history  of  the  United  States,  in  which  I 
shall  try  to  set  forth  the  mistakes  of  which  we  now  see 
the  fruits. 

I  hasten  on,  however,  to  speak  in  a  similar  brief  man- 
ner of  the  department  which  now  more  especially  de- 
mands our  attention  —  political  economy.  This  branch 
of  political  science  has  at  present  the  most  vital  impor- 
tance for  the  American  people.  I  measure  its  importance 
not  by  the  stir  which  it  is  now  making  in  party  politics, 
for  that  is  slight  enough.  A  languor  and  apathy  have 
settled  upon  the  people.  This  is  a  remarkable  phenome- 
non, but  I  suppose  that  it  may  be  a  nervous  reaction 
after  the  period  of  war  and  reconstruction,  similar  to 
that  which  overcomes  an  individual  after  a  great  nervous 
excitement.  A  movement  has  indeed  originated  in  the 
West  from  which  something  may  eventually  come, 
though  as  yet  I  see  in  it  no  signs  of  that  sober  desire  to 
investigate  causes  which  must  precede  any  successful 
attempt  at  cure,  nor  any  of  those  plans  and  methods  of 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  399 

action  which  alone  lead  to  correct  and  beneficial  results. 
But  it  is  the  duty  of  this  chair  to  measure  national  needs 
by  a  knowledge  of  the  national  status,  not  by  public 
sensations,  and  I  affirm  that  the  questions  on  which  our 
national  future  to-day  depends  are  questions  of  political 
economy,  questions  of  labor  and  capital,  of  finance  and 
taxation.  The  fruits  of  the  Civil  War  did  not  cease 
when  the  armies  disbanded.  It  left  us  with  financial 
and  industrial  legacies  whose  fruits,  as  every  student  of 
political  economy  and  social  science  knows,  are  slow  in 
ripening;  and  they  contain  seeds  of  future  and  still  more 
disastrous  crops.  No  man  can  estimate  these  long  fol- 
lowing results.  No  man  can  tell  what  social,  moral,  and 
political  transformations  they  may  produce.  There  is 
no  field  of  activity  which  now  calls  so  urgently  for  the 
activity  of  honest  and  conscientious  men  as  the  enlight- 
enment of  the  American  public  on  the  nature  and  in- 
evitable results  of  the  financial  and  industrial  errors  to 
which  they  are  committed.  I  do  not  indeed  expect  that 
this  continent  is  to  become  a  wilderness  again.  I  would 
not  exaggerate.  I  know  that  a  people  can  and  will  drag 
on  a  slow  existence  under  the  most  unfavorable  social, 
political,  and  industrial  circumstances,  and  I  know  that 
the  resources  of  this  continent  are  such  that  we  may 
waste  and  squander  recklessly  without  feeling  those 
bitter  consequences  whose  healing  function  it  is,  in  the 
moral  order,  to  warn  and  convince  us  of  mistakes.  But 
the  duty  of  the  economist  is  not  simply  to  learn  how  to 
avoid  waste  of  what  has  been  won  but  to  learn  the  laws 
by  which  there  may  be  no  falling  short  of  the  utmost 
that  might  be  attained;  and  the  duty  of  the  social 
scientist  is  to  teach  that  moral  and  social  deterioration 
follows  inevitably  upon  economical  mistakes,  whether, 
looking   to   our   general   ratio  of  physical  comfort,  it 


400  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

may  be  said  that  we  can  afford  to  waste  or  cannot. 
This  continent  has  never  been  used  economically  for 
production  in  the  sense  above  described.  It  has  always 
fallen  far  short  of  the  development  of  which  it  has  been 
capable  under  the  circumstances  of  any  given  time,  if  it 
had  been  used  according  to  the  best  economic  knowledge 
of  that  time.     Perhaps  this  is  true  now  more  than  ever. 

The  patriotism  with  which  the  American  people  sub- 
mitted to  the  burdens  of  taxation  and  paper  money,  be- 
lieving them  to  be  necessary  parts  of  the  evil  of  the 
War,  is  deserving  of  the  most  enthusiastic  admiration. 
It  serves  only  to  deepen  the  sadness  with  which  the 
economist  must  declare  the  conviction  that  the  paper 
money  never  was  a  necessity,  never  could  in  the  nature 
of  things  be  a  necessity  any  more  than  it  could  be  nec- 
essary for  a  physician  to  poison  a  patient  in  order  to 
cure  him  of  fever  or  for  a  man  to  become  bankrupt  to 
escape  insolvency;  and  also  this  other  conviction,  not  a 
matter  of  science  but  of  history,  that  the  necessity  for 
taxation  has  been  abused  by  the  creation  of  a  protective 
tariff  which  increases  the  burden  which  it  pretends  to 
carry.  These  two  subjects,  money  and  tariff,  will  be  the 
subjects  of  my  lectures  during  the  present  term.  I  say 
money  because  I  intend  to  treat  the  subject  exhaustively 
and  to  bring  the  paper  money  into  its  proper  connection. 
Next  term  I  hope  to  offer  to  the  graduate  students  a 
course  on  finance  and  taxation,  treating  those  subjects 
with  more  independence  of  actual  circumstances,  and 
according  to  the  principles  which  science  dictates. 

Now  as  to  the  method  which  I  pursue.  I  say  nothing 
here  of  the  conflicting  schools,  the  historical  and  the  phil- 
osophical, into  which  political  scientists  are  divided. 
The  philosophical  or  a  priori  or  speculative  method  is 
perfectly  legitimate.     I  was  glad  to  see  that  Professor 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  401 

Tyndall,  a  year  ago,  vindicated  the  deductive  method 
even  for  the  physical  sciences.  This  method  is  the  pre- 
rogative of  genius.  But  the  inductive  method,  though 
slower  and  more  commonplace,  is  far  more  sure  and  con- 
vincing. The  only  real  antagonism  of  method  is  between 
the  scientific  and  the  traditional  or  dogmatic.  Here  I 
take  sides  decidedly.  I  have  no  confidence  in  any  results 
which  are  not  won  by  scientific  method  and  I  leave  aside 
all  traditional  and  dogmatic  systems  as  scarcely  worth 
noticing.  I  insist  upon  strictness  of  definition,  correct- 
ness of  analysis,  precision  in  observing  phenomena,  delib- 
eration in  comparison,  correctness  of  inference,  and 
exhaustiveness  in  generalization.  These  are  what  con- 
stitute the  scientific  method  as  applied  to  diverse  sub- 
jects. I  vindicate  for  this  department  of  study  the 
character  of  a  true  science  —  not  of  a  closed  and  finished 
science  but  of  a  science  true  by  virtue  of  the  methods  by 
which  the  truth  is  discovered.  We  shall  find  the  data 
of  our  study  to  some  extent  in  history  and  statistics,  for 
I  think  that  it  is  here  that  we  must  look  for  the  facts 
upon  which  a  true  science  of  politics  and  political 
economy  is  to  be  built;  but  our  history  and  our  statistics 
are,  as  yet,  by  no  means  in  the  form  of  perfection  which 
is  required  by  the  economist  if  he  is  to  build  his  science 
upon  them.  We  shall  not  therefore  shun  the  a  priori 
process  where  we  are  thrown  upon  it  as  our  only  re- 
source, and  in  discussing  the  details  of  practical  politics, 
many  of  which  are  unprecedented,  we  shall  have 
recourse  to  considerations  of  expediency  as  the  true  rule 
which  governs  such  matters. 

My  course  for  the  present  year,  then,  involves  for  the 
seniors  the  study  of  political  economy,  with  especial 
reference  in  the  lectures  to  paper  money  and  tariff.  In 
our  EngHsh  text-book  these  things  are  curtly  dismissed 


402  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

as  covered,  as  indeed  they  are,  by  a  few  common  sense 
reflections.  As  these,  however,  are  living  questions 
amongst  us,  I  must  subject  them  to  full  investigation. 
In  the  second  term  we  shall  study  the  science  of  govern- 
ment and  the  theory  of  the  state  —  political  science  in  its 
narrower  use.  In  the  third  term,  international  law.  To 
the  graduates  I  offer  a  course  this  term  on  the  Encyclo- 
paedia of  Political  Science  as  the  basis  of  a  knowledge  of 
the  whole  subject.  In  the  second  term  I  shall  lecture  on 
finance  and  taxation,  this  being  really  a  continuation  of 
the  lectures  on  political  economy,  and  in  the  third  term 
on  the  history  of  politics  and  finance  in  the  United 
States.  In  future  years,  as  the  University  course  de- 
velops, I  hope  to  take  up  other  branches  of  the  wide 
department  which  has  been  entrusted  to  me  here  and 
gradually  to  win  for  this  chair  the  influence  which  be- 
longs to  it  as  the  chair  of  political  science  in  the  first 
university  of  the  repubhc.  My  aim  will  be  to  give  to 
those  who  visit  this  university  faith  in  science,  in 
thought,  in  training  as  applied  to  politics.  I  desire  to 
use  the  opportunity  given  me  to  furnish  the  country 
with  citizens  of  sterling  worth,  and  to  give  to  the  profes- 
sions men  whose  public  influence  will  tell  in  the  cause 
of  liberty,  industry,  and  honesty.  I  hope  that  those  of 
you  who  become  lawyers  will  learn  how  to  legislate 
far-sightedly  for  the  permanent  welfare  of  a  free  people, 
not  to  follow  the  clamor  of  a  noisy  faction.  I  hope  that 
those  of  you  who  become  editors  will  learn  to  wield 
honorably  the  immense  power  you  will  enjoy  for  the 
instruction  and  molding  of  public  opinion.  I  hope  that 
those  of  you  who  become  clergymen  will  teach  that 
no  one  can  be  a  righteous  man  in  our  time  and  country 
unless  he  is  also  a  faithful  citizen.  I  hope  also  that  the 
career  of  politics  may  open  in  the  future  in  such  a  way 


INTRODUCTORY  LECTURE  403 

as  to  tempt  the  ambition  of  the  best  youth  of  the  repub- 
lic. Republics  learn  only  by  experience,  but  the  bitter 
experience  will  not  be  wanting.  The  men  of  this  genera- 
tion are  not  doing  their  duty  by  the  men  of  the  next. 
They  are  putting  off  hard  duties  and  are  shirking  re- 
sponsibilities and  are  relaxing  the  political  virtue  of  the 
country.  In  one  way  or  another  the  results  will  inevi- 
tably come.  When  they  come,  I  am  of  opinion  that  the 
American  people  will  find  that  it  does  not  pay  to  be 
ruled  by  small  men.  They  will  look  about  in  their  need 
for  men  who  know  what  ought  to  be  done  and  how  to  do 
it.  It  is  my  duty  here  to  try  to  provide  that  when  such 
a  time  comes  the  men  may  be  ready;  and  to  you  I  say 
that,  whether  you  are  in  the  ranks  of  the  citizens  — 
where  you  will  need  to  know  how  to  choose  your  leaders 
—  or  whether  you  are  called  to  fulfill  the  responsibilities 
of  oflBce  yourselves,  the  course  of  study  upon  which  we 
now  enter  deserves  your  most  careful  apphcation. 


SOCIOLOGY  AS  A  COLLEGE  SUBJECT 


SOCIOLOGY  AS  A  COLLEGE  SUBJECT^ 

[1906] 

When  I  looked  over  the  program  of  this  meeting  I 
chose  to  speak  in  the  discussion  on  this  question  because 
it  is  the  one  that  interests  me  most.  I  hope  that  in  the 
course  of  the  discussion  we  shall  develop  some  useful 
suggestions  in  regard  to  it.  The  fact  is,  it  seems  to  me, 
that  to-day  there  is  nothing  more  important  for  all 
young  men  to  learn  than  some  of  the  fundamental  notions 
of  sociology.  I  use  the  term  now  in  the  broad  sense  of 
a  philosophy  of  society,  the  synthesis  of  the  other  things 
that  we  sometimes  include  under  sociology;  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  in  all  the  public  discussion  that  is 
going  on  and  in  the  matters  that  nowadays  seem  to 
interest  people  more  than  anything  else,  what  they  need 
is  some  sound  fundamental  notions  that  a  sociologist 
might  give  them. 

For  instance,  everybody  ought  to  know  what  a  society 
is.  "Society"  is  a  word  that  has  a  great  many  different 
uses.  It  is  very  much  confused  by  these  different  uses; 
and  at  the  same  time  a  society  is  the  fundamental  thing 
with  which  sociology  is  concerned.  The  social  sciences 
are  all  of  them  connected  with  particular  details  of 
social  life,  and  if  people  could  get  an  idea  of  what  a 
society  is,  and  perhaps  still  more  exactly  what  it  is  not, 
it  would  correct  and  define  a  great  number  of  false 
suggestions  that  nowadays  perplex  the  public  mind. 

Then,  again,  it  is  most  important  in  regard  to  a 
society  that  it  shall  be  publicly  understood  what  you 

»  The  American  Journal  of  Sociology,  Vol.  XII,  pp.  597-602. 
[407  1 


408  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

can  do  with  a  society  and  what  you  cannot  do  with  it. 
People  who  know  what  a  society  is,  and  what  we  can 
do  with  a  society  by  our  best  efforts,  would  know  that 
it  is  great  nonsense  to  talk  about  the  re-organization  of 
society  as  a  thing  that  people  are  going  to  take  in  hand 
as  a  corrective  measure,  to  be  carried  out  by  certain 
social  enterprises  so  called.  What  we  try  to  do,  and 
what  we  want  to  try  to  do  in  class  work,  is  to  give  the 
young  men  and  young  women  (where  the  latter  are  con- 
cerned) a  sound  idea  of  some  of  these  fundamentals,  that 
would  stop  them  from  going  over  into  a  false  line  of 
effort  and  thought. 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  in  doing  this  one  thing  what 
we  want  to  do  is  to  get  down  to  facts;  and  we  ought  to 
stick  as  close  to  facts  as  we  can.  I  don't  mean  statis- 
tical facts,  but  I  mean  the  realities  and  the  truth  of 
the  life  around  us,  the  life  that  is  going  on,  the  motives 
of  the  people,  their  ideas  and  their  fallacies,  the  false 
things  on  which  they  pin  their  faith,  and  so  on.  And 
the  facts  all  show  that  there  ought  to  be  understood  by 
students  of  sociology  all  fundamental  facts  about  society, 
about  what  it  is,  what  is  possible  in  it,  what  is  not 
possible  in  it,  and  so  on.  We  have  our  work  at  New 
Haven  so  organized  that  we  try  to  have  the  students 
take  courses  in  ethnography  and  some  related  subjects 
which  are  of  a  fundamental  character  and  which  form 
a  stock  of  knowledge  that  a  student  of  sociology  ought 
to  have.  If  we  do  not  do  this,  sociology  becomes  a 
thing  up  in  the  air.  We  have  a  lot  of  abstract  defini- 
tions and  abstract  notions  that  may,  of  course,  have 
some  philosophical  value  or  psychological  truth;  but 
the  student  starting  out  from  them  is  in  great  danger, 
at  any  rate,  of  going  off  into  the  old-fashioned  methods 
of  deduction  from  these  broad  notions  that  he  starts 


SOCIOLOGY  AS  A  COLLEGE  SUBJECT        409 

with,  and  the  whole  thing  becomes  lost  in  the  clouds. 
That  seems  to  me  the  greatest  danger  that  sociology 
nowadays  has  to  encounter.  If  we  allow  it  to  become 
foundationless — I  mean  in  regard  to  the  real  facts  —  and 
make  it  a  matter  of  thought  and  deduction,  we  cannot 
expect  that  we  shall  have  great  effect  on  public  opinion; 
we  cannot  expect  that  people  will  pay  very  much  atten- 
tion to  us  or  care  much  about  what  we  say.  The  only 
way  to  get  an  influence  that  we  want  and  that  we  think 
we  deserve  is  to  keep  sociology  directly  and  constantly 
in  touch  with  common  everyday  life  and  with  the  forms 
of  the  social  order. 

If  I  were  a  man  forty  years  old,  and  were  beginning 
to  be  a  professor  in  one  of  our  American  colleges,  I  should 
think  that  the  opportunity  to  take  hold  of  a  department 
of  sociology,  and  give  it  shape  and  control  its  tendencies, 
lay  down  its  outlines,  and  so  on,  was  really  the  most 
important  thing  that  a  man  nowadays  could  undertake, 
because  of  the  tremendous  importance  of  these  social 
questions  that  are  arising.  There  cannot  be  any  doubt 
of  it,  and  I,  at  any  rate,  am  perfectly  convinced  that 
within  the  next  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  the  questions 
that  are  going  to  shake  American  society  to  its  founda- 
tions are  questions  of  sociological  character  and  impor- 
tance. Some  have  already  been  referred  to;  such,  for 
instance,  as  this  race  question  that  has  been  rising  and 
getting  more  strenuous  every  year.  It  has  got  some 
truth  at  the  bottom  of  it,  if  we  can  get  at  it;  in  the  end  it 
will  have  to  be  settled  from  the  merit  that  is  in  it,  and 
it  is  the  sociologist  who  will  have  to  find  the  truth  that  is 
in  this  matter.  Again,  such  questions  as  are  involved 
in  conflicts  about  capital  are  unlimited  in  their  influence 
on  the  welfare  of  the  American  people.  And  if  I  were 
at  the  beginning  of  a  career,  instead  of  at  the  end  of  it. 


410  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

I  should  think  there  was  nothing  that  was  better  worth 
work  than  to  get  into  the  minds  of  the  young  men  some 
notions  that  were  sound  in  regard  to  such  fundamental 
matters.  Then  in  regard  to  this  matter  of  divorce 
and  the  way  in  which  it  is  acting  upon  the  American 
people;  it  is  a  question  that  ramifies  through  the  whole 
society  and  even  the  most  dithyrambic  of  our  orators 
have  never  gone  beyond  the  truth  of  the  importance  of 
this  matter  to  the  American  people. 
i^ ,  My  opinion  in  regard  to  this  is  that  the  way  to  build 
a  science  of  sociology  is  to  build  it  on  the  same  funda- 
mental methods  that  have  proved  so  powerful  in  the 
other  sciences — I  mean  the  more  or  less  exact  sciences. 
We  cannot  pretend  that  we  can  ever  make  an  exact 
science  of  sociology.  We  ought  not  to  try.  We  haven't 
got  the  information,  and  I  don't  know  that  we  ever  can 
get  it  in  the  accurate,  positive  shape  in  which  it  is 
ascertained  in  the  exact  sciences.  We  are  all  the  time 
"dealing  more  or  less  with  propositions  that  under  cer- 
tain circumstances  will  have  to  be  modified.  They 
are  valuable,  they  are  important,  but  more  knowledge, 
more  information,  may  force  us  to  modify  them.  That 
will  not  do  any  harm.  There  have  been  sciences  that 
have  had  a  long  and  useful  life,  although  they  remained 
in  that  form.  I  don't  think  that  is  a  fundamental  diflS- 
culty,  but  it  is  one  that  we  want  to  overcome  so  far  as 
we  can.  We  ought  to  be  truly  scientific  so  far  as  possi- 
ble. We  ought  to  use  positive  and  well-tested  methods 
and  we  ought  not  to  trust  any  others.  The  methods 
that  we  use  ought  to  be  such  as  would  be  regarded  as 
valid  at  any  time  and  anywhere,  on  any  subject. 

Now  if  the  young  men  are  to  be  trained  in  this,  you 
have  got  to  bring  them  up  to  it  by  a  study  of  a  positive 
character  that  deals  with  facts  and  information.     We 


SOCIOLOGY  AS  A  COLLEGE  SUBJECT        411 

have  thought  that  ethnography  was  at  any  rate  one  of 
the  very  broadest  of  these  subjects.  The  books  on 
sociology  all  refer  constantly  to  certain  things  as  true 
with  regard  to  primitive  or  uncivilized  people,  and  we 
ought  to  have  a  stock  of  knowledge  about  such  matters 
that  is  firm  and  well-learned,  so  that  the  students  know 
what  we  are  talking  about.  They  would  know  at  once 
if  all  the  things  as  asserted  are  actually  and  positively 
true.  Then  there  are  the  economic  courses :  as  has  been 
well  said,  they  have  important  limitations,  but  they  fur- 
nish a  convenient  and  practical  introduction  to  our  line 
of  study.  Again  there  is  the  great  field  of  history;  that 
furnishes  us  a  vast  amount  of  our  material — the  material 
on  which  we  base  our  deductions  and  generalizations, 
so  that  a  student  who  is  going  to  be  a  sociologist  never 
can  know  too  much  history.  And  if  history  is  taught 
well  and  according  to  modern  ideas  and  methods,  it 
furnishes  a  very  good  introduction  to  sociological  study. 
Well,  I  myself  am  about  at  the  end  of  it;  only  one  or 
two  more  years  remain,  and  I  am  most  interested  now 
to  know  what  can  be  done  for  the  sake  of  the  future, 
for  those  who  will  come  after  and  take  up  the  work  and 
carry  it  on.  I  hope  we  shall  get  up  a  discussion  here  — 
if  necessary,  a  quarrel  —  which  will  develop  ideas  about 
this  matter  that  will  help.  Somebody  asked  me  last 
evening  if  this  was  going  to  be  a  gay  discussion,  and  I 
said  it  had  possibilities  for  a  very  gay  discussion;  and, 
Mr.  Chairman,  it  is  what  I  hope  we  shall  have  in  the 
remainder  of  the  session. 


THE  PREDICAMENT  OF  SOCIOLOGICAL 
STUDY 


THE   PREDICAMENT  OF  SOCIOLOGICAL 
STUDY 1 

During  modern  times  science  has  gradually  gained 
the  mastery  of  one  after  another  of  the  great  depart- 
ments of  human  interest.  As  yet  its  dominion  is  imper- 
fect and  disputed,  but  it  is  gaining  ground  every  day  as 
the  authority  to  which  we  must  all  look  for  truth  about 
the  earth,  human  life,  and  the  nature  and  destiny  of  man. 
As  fast  as  science  gains  dominion  it  displaces  arbitrary 
and  personal  elements.  It  gives  correct  notions  of 
causation  and  so  dispels  superstition;  it  drives  out 
transcendentalism,  mysticism,  and  sentimentalism  from 
every  interest  over  which  it  obtains  dominion.  But 
science  has  not  yet  extended  its  domain  over  the  so- 
cial interests  of  mankind.  Sociology  is  a  science  which 
has  yet  to  come  into  being,  and  it  is  as  yet  only  the 
name  for  an  outline  which  we  have  to  fill  up  by  a  long 
and  laborious  investigation. 

If,  as  we  well  know,  biology  and  its  cognate  develop- 
ments are  yet  in  their  struggling  infancy,  how  much 
more  is  sociology  new  and  tentative.  Yet  if  we  can 
train  a  body  of  men  to  study  it  we  shall  undoubtedly 
win  advantages  as  great  as  science  has  produced  in  any 
department  which  it  has  yet  conquered.  Let  us  now 
consider  the  sort  of  thing  which  the  advance  of  science 
must  drive  out  of  sociology. 

There  are  no  topics  which  are  more  constantly  dis- 
cussed than  social  topics.  Everybody  has  views  about 
social  questions;  and  these  views  are  generally  crude. 
That,  however,  does  not  prevent  them  from  being  freely 

*  For  approximate  date,  see  preface. 
[415] 


416  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

put  forward.  Every  one  gets  some  experience  of  society 
and  has  an  opportunity  to  make  some  observations  of 
social  phenomena.  I  believe,  however,  that  any  one 
who  studies  sociology  will  be  very  loath  to  give  opinions 
on  social  topics  which  lead  him  far  away  from  the  most 
primary  facts  and  doctrines  of  political  economy  or  the 
simplest  maxims  of  statecraft.  We  do  not  indeed  lack 
those  who  are  far  more  ambitious.  I  am  not  quite  sure 
how  much  is  intended  in  that  clever  satire,  "The  Re- 
volt of  Man,"  when  the  women  who  have  come  to  rule 
the  worid  and  have  destroyed  civilization  and  lowered 
the  population,  are  represented  as  chiefly  interested  in 
politics  and  political  and  social  economy.  If  it  means 
that  people  who  are  fond  of  talking  a  great  deal  in  pro- 
portion to  the  working  and  thinking  they  do,  are  prone 
to  pitch  upon  social  and  economic  topics,  there  is  a  great 
basis  of  truth  under  the  satire.  All  the  world-reformers, 
the  philanthropists,  the  friends  of  humanity,  and  in 
general  the  class  of  those  who  are  anxious  to  mind  their 
neighbors'  business,  pitch  upon  sociological  topics  with 
especial  avidity.  It  is  a  broad  and  expansive  sensation 
to  feel  one's  self  telling  one's  neighbor  how  he  ought  to 
live.  It  must  be  sublime  to  have  the  consciousness  that 
one  is  capable  of  setting  the  world  straight.  A  religious 
teacher,  who  speaks  in  the  name  of  a  creed  of  religious 
dogmas,  does  not  believe  that  he  is  speaking  for  himself, 
but  thinks  that  he  is  bringing  a  message  of  authority  to 
a  world  lost  and  blind  in  the  midst  of  perplexities;  but 
one  who  speaks  only  in  the  name  of  an  ethical  philos- 
ophy or  a  sentimental  desire  for  reform  has  no  standards 
or  guidance  whatever.  The  orthodox  preacher  may  in- 
sist strongly  on  the  authority  and  absolute  value  of  his 
message,  but  the  a  priori  philosopher  can  only  establish 
arbitrary  points  of  departure  and  arbitrary  deductions. 


SOCIOLOGICAL  STUDY  417 

The  preacher  may  be  easily  set  aside  if  his  authority 
seems  to  be  destitute  of  foundation;  the  philosopher  is 
certainly  only  entangling  himself  in  a  maze  of  rhetoric 
and  metaphysics.  The  old  biblical  system  unquestion- 
ably contained  a  sociology.  The  religion  of  the  Jews 
and  that  of  the  Christians  reaches  out  to  the  dimensions 
of  a  cosmic  philosophy;  it  contains  a  whole  system  of 
natural  philosophy,  of  the  state,  and  of  society,  as  well 
as  of  the  church;  it  embraces,  in  short,  the  whole  life  of 
man  in  its  scope  and  interest.  So  far  as  I  know,  that 
has  been  the  case  with  all  of  the  great  religions;  each 
one  of  them  contained  all  things  necessary  to  human 
life,  the  center  of  the  system  being  in  the  religious  bond 
or  the  religious  consciousness.  Modern  science  also 
embraces  in  its  scope  all  human  interests  —  all  those  at 
least  which  are  limited  by  this  world.  These  two  sys- 
tems cannot  come  to  an  adjustment  and  division  of 
territory  without  many  collisions  and  much  friction. 
Now,  however,  there  comes  the  metaphysician,  the 
ethical  philosopher,  the  sentimentalist,  the  man  who 
wants  to  make  everybody  happy,  the  reformer,  and  the 
friend  of  humanity,  and  they  all  seek  to  conquer  the 
domain  which  religion  has  not  yet  lost  and  science  has 
not  yet  gained.  Hence  it  is  that  sociology  is  to-day 
torn  and  distracted  amongst  them  all  and  that  science 
seems,  as  yet,  to  have  but  the  smallest  share  in  the  treat- 
ment of  social  issues. 

A  consequence  of  this  state  of  things  is  that  sociology 
is  dominated  by  all  the  evil  forces  which  ever  harm  any 
subject  of  human  interest.  There  is  a  kind  of  transcen- 
dentalism in  regard  to  social  matters  which  is  cherished 
by  a  certain  school.  Often  the  least  experienced  stu- 
dents are  captivated  by  subtleties  of  this  kind.  The 
most  round-about  discussion,  or  the  one  which  treats 


418  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

phenomena  by  reference  to  unimportant  incidents  and 
accidental  coincidences,  is  pursued  by  preference.  The 
whole  discussion  of  social  topics  is  conducted  in  a  vein 
of  sublimated  and  over-refined  speculation.  Of  course 
the  effect  of  holding  this  standpoint  is  that  phenomena 
are  not  observed  and  that  facts  are  left  out  of  account. 

Closely  allied  with  this  way  of  looking  at  sociological 
questions  is  one  which  is  rather  mystical  than  tran- 
scendental. There  are  German  writers  who  are  very 
fond  of  this  mode  of  viewing  society.  Their  influence 
seems  to  be  spreading.  They  generally  confuse  political 
economy  with  sociology,  and  then  give  us  a  mystical 
political  economy  which  is  made  to  cover  more  or  less 
the  whole  domain  of  sociology.  The  influence  of  this 
school  is  spreading  both  in  England  and  America.  Our 
American  students  go  to  Germany  and,  returning,  need 
to  prove  that  they  have  gained  something  by  it.  They 
undoubtedly  do  gain  more  than  one  can  estimate  and  in 
a  great  variety  of  ways,  but  they  feel  bound  to  vindicate 
the  specific  instruction  which  they  have  received  lest  it 
might  seem  that  their  foreign  study  had  not  been  nec- 
essary or  advantageous.  The  particular  effect  produced 
is  that  the  science  of  political  economy,  the  art  of  gov- 
ernment, and  morals  are  confused  together  to  the  great 
disadvantage  of  all.  Occult  relations  and  laws  are  de- 
vised, and  the  path  of  social  growth  is  held  to  lie  in  the 
cultivation  of  certain  soul-states  in  the  individual. 

Then  we  have  a  certain  peculiar  dogmatism  in  so- 
ciology. Men  who  are  eminent  in  other  branches  of 
science  and  who  would  vigorously  resent  any  intrusion 
of  dogmatism  into  their  own  departments  will  not  hesi- 
tate to  dogmatize  in  the  most  reckless  manner  about 
sociological  questions.  The  reason  is  because  they  have 
never  yet  learned  to  think  of  social  phenomena  and  laws 


SOCIOLOGICAL  STUDY  419 

as  subject  to  the  same  point  of  view  and  modes  of  thought 
as  natural  and  other  sciences. 

Then  there  are  the  sentimentalists,  who  are  the  largest 
class  and  who  make  the  easiest  work  of  social  questions. 
In  the  study  of  the  individual  organism  we  know  that 
normal  physiology  presents  the  greatest  difficulties  and 
is  the  essential  basis  for  a  correct  study  of  diseases 
and  remedies.  We  also  know  that  popular  knowledge 
of  physiology  is  meager  in  the  extreme,  while  popu- 
lar notions  attach  almost  entirely  to  diseases  and  to 
remedies.  The  same  is  true  of  society.  The  study  of 
the  structure  and  functions  of  the  organs  of  society  is 
long  and  diflBcult,  and  we  have,  as  yet,  accomplished 
very  little  towards  it.  We  can  hope  to  accomplish  much 
only  by  a  long  study  of  history  and  a  careful  exami- 
nation of  institutions.  I  venture  to  say  that  no  study 
except  the  highest  mathematics  has  ever  yet  made  such 
demands  on  the  human  mind  as  are  made  by  sociology. 
We  cannot  make  an  experiment  in  sociology  because  we 
cannot  dispose  of  the  time,  that  is,  of  the  lives  of  a  body 
of  men  and  women.  We  have  to  carry  in  mind  a  great 
number  of  variables,  to  weigh  their  value,  and  to  deduce 
their  resultant,  although  for  many  of  them  we  can  find  no 
unit  of  measurement  or  comparison,  and  although  we 
have  no  notation  to  help  us.  I  think  that  we  shall  have 
to  adopt  some  of  these  methods  of  the  other  sciences 
sooner  or  later,  but  at  present  I  see  no  means  of  ad- 
vancing sociology  save  by  the  cultivation  of  a  trained 
judgment  through  the  careful  study  of  sociological  phe- 
nomena and  sequences. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  student  of  sociology  as 
a  science  will  necessarily  feel  great  timidity  about  all 
generalizations.  There  are  so  many  more  things  that 
he  does  not  know  than  there  are  which  he  does  know. 


420  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

that  he  never  feels  ready  to  close  the  case  and  advance 
to  a  decision.  There  are  so  many  components  whose 
value  he  can  only  measure  approximately  that  he  cannot 
feel  sure  of  his  result. 

This  state  of  things,  however,  is  precisely  made  to  fit 
the  sentimentalist.  Here  we  have  before  us  social  dis- 
eases, and  we  see  a  great  number  and  variety  of  social 
phenomena  which  are  disagreeable  and  shocking  to  our 
sensibilities.  Some  of  them  are  appalling.  In  the  city 
of  New  York  and  in  any  other  great  city,  we  can  find 
representations  of  every  grade  of  barbarism  from  the 
bottom  up.  We  think  of  the  primitive  man  as  a  strange 
creature  of  passion  and  impulse,  but  there  are  social 
groups  amongst  us  consisting  of  persons  who  have  grown 
up  without  discipline  and  who  are  similarly  primitive  and 
barbarous.  About  all  of  civilization  which  they  have 
caught  is  the  fashion  of  wearing  clothes.  The  primitive 
man  made  women  do  all  the  work;  but  there  are  plenty 
of  men  in  modern  civilized  society,  especially  in  the 
great  cities,  who  do  the  same.  We  can  find  slavery, 
caste  systems,  serfdom,  and  feudal  relations  represented 
in  scarcely  disguised  forms  in  the  midst  of  any  great  city 
of  to-day.  We  can  find  fetishism  and  every  other  form 
of  religious  superstition  represented;  likewise  polygamy, 
polyandry,  and  every  other  form  of  sex  relation.  It  has 
been  said  that  the  human  animal  runs  through,  in  em- 
bryo, the  whole  biological  development  from  which  the 
human  race  has  sprung  and  contains  within  himself  all 
that  development  in  an  accumulated  form.  Something 
of  that  sort  is  true  about  society;  our  society  to-day 
contains  fragments  of  the  whole  history  of  civilization, 
accumulated  and  consolidated  into  the  great  existing 
fabric. 

Hence  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  think  that  we  have  left 


SOCIOLOGICAL  STUDY  421 

behind  and  sloughed  off  all  old  things.  We  have  not. 
We  carry  with  us  survivals  of  all  the  old  things.  Some- 
times those  survivals  appear  to  be  clogs  upon  us;  some- 
times they  seem  to  be  stepping-stones  by  which  we  rise 
higher. 

But  now  observe  what  a  grand  chance  of  error  is  of- 
fered to  any  one  who  goes  out  to  look  around  upon  our 
civilized  society  of  to-day  and  to  say  how  it  pleases  him. 
Of  course  he  sees  the  most  grotesque  contrasts  side  by 
side.  If  we  begin  to  boast  of  some  of  our  triumphs,  we 
do  not  finish  the  boast  before  some  one  of  these  con- 
trasts bursts  into  view  like  the  face  of  a  grinning  demon 
rising  to  deride  us.  If  our  social  observer  has  imbibed 
the  humanitarian  sentiments  which  are  afloat  in  our 
most  refined  society  and  if  he  looks  at  the  horrors, 
cruelties,  and  sufferings  which  underlie  our  society,  he 
cries  out  in  dismay.  He  does  not  know  that  he  is  looking 
at  a  feeble  reflection  of  the  only  scene  which  this  earth 
presented  to  the  sun  for  thousands  of  years.  He  does 
not  see  that  the  wonder  is  that  we  have  gained  a  certain 
peace  and  security  for  a  part  of  the  human  race,  not  that 
there  yet  remain  at  the  bottom  of  society  vast  realms 
of  misery  and  strife. 

Of  course  the  sentimental  observer,  terrified  at  the 
disease,  is  in  haste  for  a  remedy.  The  first  step  is  to 
make  a  diagnosis,  which  is  done  by  fastening  the  blame 
on  some  things  or  some  persons.  Let  me  repeat  that  the 
real  marvel  is  that  civilization  has  triumphed  so  far  that, 
in  three  or  four  great  civilized  nations,  a  few  million 
people  can  so  far  control  the  condition  of  existence  that 
they  can  live  their  lives  out  in  peace  and  security.  One 
of  the  commonest  and  most  baseless  popular  notions 
is  that  all  men  could  be  or  ought  to  be  to-day  on  that 
same  status  and  that  there  is  blame  to  be  dispensed  if  they 


422  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

are  not.  A  little  reflection  will  show  that  it  is  quite  im- 
possible for  all  to  have  the  best  there  is.  No  doubt  all 
the  social  force  in  the  world  is  exhausted  in  sustaining 
human  society  at  its  present  level.  That  force  is  not 
all  employed  as  economically  as  it  might  be;  far  from  it. 
But  that  only  throws  us  back  on  our  true  point  of  view 
and  of  effort,  viz.,  to  make  the  wisest  use  of  what  we 
have  —  to  improve  our  institutions  and  advance  the  arts 
as  a  means  of  increasing  our  social  force  and  to  trust 
to  this  increase  of  power  to  advance  civilization.  Even 
then,  however,  we  must  understand  that  some  men 
will  absorb  to  themselves  any  gain  we  make  and  will 
thus  prove  themselves  the  best  men.  In  fact,  the  ad- 
vance which  we  gain,  instead  of  saving  and  raising  the 
miserable  and  pitiful  victims  who  are  at  the  bottom, 
may  possibly  crowd  them  out  of  existence  entirely.  For 
instance,  if  we  break  up  one  of  the  slums  of  a  great  city 
and  disperse  its  poverty-stricken,  vicious,  and  criminal 
inhabitants  who  might  have  festered  there  for  a  long 
time  yet,  we  force  them  out  into  open  contact  with 
society  where  they  are  soon  crushed  by  the  competition 
of  life  or  by  the  machinery  of  the  law. 

Such  a  line  of  thought  as  this,  however,  is  never  pur- 
sued by  the  sentimentalist.  Seeking  a  diagnosis  of  the 
social  evils  which  he  perceives,  he  notes  the  preponder- 
ant importance  of  capital  in  modern  society,  and  he  notes 
the  struggle  of  interests  which  is  involved  in  the  whole 
structure  of  our  modern  industrial  system.  I  have 
tried  elsewhere  to  show  how  it  is  that  capital  is  the 
backbone  of  all  civilization,  and  that  higher  and  ever 
higher  organization  is  essential,  as  the  number  of  men 
increases,  for  the  human  race  to  keep  up  its  advancing 
fight  with  nature.  Consequently  the  struggle  to  get  cap- 
ital, to  keep  it,  and  to  use  it,  is  and  must  be  one  of  the 


SOCIOLOGICAL  STUDY  423 

leading  phenomena  of  society.  The  moralists  and  phil- 
osophers sneer  at  the  struggle  for  wealth  and  criticize 
it,  and  still  it  goes  on.  The  moralists  and  philosophers 
might  do  a  great  deal  to  make  the  struggle  for  capital 
more  intelligent,  but  to  try  to  preach  it  down  is  like 
telling  men  not  to  live;  and  to  try  to  set  limits  or  bounds 
of  any  kind  to  the  accumulation  of  capital  is  simply 
telling  men  not  to  live  as  well  as  they  can.  We  always 
come  back  to  the  same  point:  restraint  or  diminution 
of  capital  is  a  reduction  of  civilization. 

The  case  is  no  better  if  we  try  to  regulate  in  any  way 
the  struggle  of  interests  under  liberty.  The  sentimen- 
talists are  always  greatly  outraged  by  the  notion  of  the 
survival  of  the  fittest  which  is  produced  by  liberty.  If 
we  do  not  like  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  we  have  only 
one  alternative  and  that  is  the  survival  of  the  unfittest. 
If  A,  the  unfittest  to  survive,  is  about  to  perish  and 
somebody  interferes  to  make  B,  the  fittest,  carry  and 
preserve  A,  it  is  plain  that  the  unfittest  is  made  to  sur- 
vive and  that  he  is  maintained  at  the  expense  of  B,  who 
is  curtailed  and  restrained  by  just  so  much.  This  proc- 
ess, therefore,  is  a  lowering  of  social  development  and 
is  working  backwards,  not  forwards. 

These  points  of  criticism  show  us  what  we  have  to 
think  about  the  attempts  of  the  socialists  and  senti- 
mentalists to  attribute  the  dark  phenomena  of  our  society 
to  capital  or  to  liberty  of  organization,  and  of  their 
proposals,  by  way  of  remedy,  to  assail  property  and 
liberty.  It  is  only  a  commonplace  to  say  that  all 
human  institutions  and  arrangements  are  liable  to 
abuse  and  that  we  must  keep  up  a  constant  warfare 
with  selfishness  and  greed  whenever  they  show  them- 
selves. That  necessity  will  never  be  done  away  with 
while    the   world    stands.     Selfishness   and   greed   will 


424  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

change  their  forms  and  lines  of  operation  as  changes 
occur  in  the  industrial  system  and  in  the  organization 
of  society.  To  check  the  development  of  society  in 
order  to  prevent  selfishness  and  greed  would  certainly 
be  preposterous. 

Passing  by  others  who  dabble  in  social  discussions,  I 
will  notice,  finally,  the  poets  and  the  novelists.  The 
influence  of  the  latter,  in  our  day,  is  very  great.  About 
all  the  information  which  certain  people  possess  on  social 
questions  comes  from  the  novehsts.  They  give  us 
pictures  of  society  either  as  they  see  it  or  as  they  want 
to  see  it.  Their  presentations  are  as  fragmentary  and 
disconnected  as  paintings  hung  in  a  gallery.  At  best 
they  are  kaleidoscopic  and  have  no  cohesion  but  that  of 
an  arbitrary  symmetry.  They  deal  by  preference  with 
that  sociological  subject  which  stands  first  in  impor- 
tance, the  family,  including  marriage,  paternity,  and 
divorce,  and  also  the  relations  of  love  and  courtship. 
It  is  significant  of  the  effect  which  the  novel  has  pro- 
duced by  its  treatment  of  these  things  that  they  are 
all  regarded  with  a  certain  levity;  we  know,  however, 
that  they  surpass  all  others  in  weight  and  importance. 
Consider  the  notions  about  love  which  are  spread  abroad 
amongst  our  young  people  by  the  novels  of  to-day. 
Those  notions  are  purely  conventional  and  artificial.  I 
do  not,  of  course,  mean  to  argue  that  the  old-fashioned 
plan  under  which  the  parents  selected  husbands  or 
wives  for  their  children  was  wiser  than  our  methods  of 
to-day,  though  we  might  well  ask  whether  the  old  plan 
made  any  more  unhappy  marriages  than  are  made 
to-day.  But  if  young  people  are  taught  that  love  is  a 
kind  of  disease  which  may  be  caught  or  may  not,  like  the 
measles,  that  it  comes  only  once  in  a  life-time,  that  it  is 
a  passion  which  ought  not  to  be  controlled  by  reason  or 


SOCIOLOGICAL  STUDY  425 

duty,  that  it  is  a  law  to  itself,  and  so  on,  then  it  is  not 
strange  that  families  are  broken  up  and  lives  are  blighted 
later  on.  We  can  build  nothing  strong  on  passion.  We 
build  strongly  only  when  we  build  on  duty. 

Nor  can  the  novels  be  thought  much  more  fortunate  in 
their  teaching  about  the  relations  of  parents  and  chil- 
dren than  in  what  they  say  about  love  and  marriage. 
We  'stand  here  midway  between  the  old  doctrine  that 
the  parent  had  all  the  rights  and  the  child  all  the 
duties,  and  the  new  doctrine  which  is  that  the  child  has 
the  rights  and  the  parent  the  duties,  but  that  the  child 
owes  respect,  deference,  and  obedience  where  he  meets 
with  affection  and  care. 

Enough,  now,  has  been  said  to  show  that  what  we 
need  in  this  department,  confused  as  it  is  by  old  theories 
and  new,  by  old  traditions  and  new  fashions,  by  old 
creeds  and  new  philosophies,  is  a  scientific  method  which 
shall  descend  to  a  cold  clear  examination  of  facts  and 
build  up  inductions  which  shall  have  positive  value. 
That  is  what  sociology  attempts  to  do.  If  we  can  trace 
the  evolution  of  society  from  its  germ  up  to  its  present 
highest  forms,  we  may  hope  to  identify  the  forces  which 
are  at  work  in  it  and  to  determine  their  laws.  We  can 
disabuse  our  minds  of  arbitrary  codes  and  traditions 
and  learn  to  regard  society  as  a  growth  under  law.  We 
may  then  hope  to  understand  what  we  see  about  us,  and 
if  remedies  are  either  desirable  or  necessary,  we  shall 
stand  some  chance  of  selecting  them  intelligently. 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES 


MEMORIAL   ADDRESSES^ 

ADDRESS  OF  OTTO  T.  BANNARD, 
YALE,   1876 

As  one  of  the  very  early  students  of  William  Graham 
Sumner  in  Political  and  Social  Science,  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  speak  briefly  —  not  as  a  scholar  or  economist 
—  just  as  one  of  many  who  sat  at  his  feet  and  never 
forgot,  who  listened  and  read  and  always  rejoiced  at 
meeting  him.  He  was  a  great  central  figure  and  a 
large  part  of  Yale,  and  Yale  without  Sumner  taxes  the 
imagination  of  us  older  men.  He  was  a  University 
Keystone  not  to  be  removed,  and  he  will  continue  in 
our  thoughts  and  in  our  life  as  long  as  we  who  knew 
him  live. 

Without  any  national  official  position,  he  was  a 
national  character.  His  subjects  dealt  with  national 
policies  and  current  events  and  his  views  were  sought 
even  by  those  to  whom  they  were  unwelcome.  Oddly 
enough,  no  matter  how  unyielding  his  opposition,  he 
generated  no  personal  rancor,  for  it  was  self-evident 
that  he  was  the  apostle  of  truth,  and  interested  only 
in  the  correctness  of  the  conclusions.  There  was  no 
vanity  in  the  argument,  no  conscious  pleasure  in  the 
words.  He  had  the  constructive  faculty,  and  his  logic 
was  merciless,  and  as  unanswerable  as  a  problem  of 
Euclid,  because  human  nature,  expediency,  local  en- 
vironment, and  the  compromises  of  government  by 
party  had  nothing  to  do  with  abstract  essence  of  truth. 
One  late  evening  in  his  library,  as  a  senior,  I  timidly 
questioned  him  as  to  the  anti-Chinese  sentiment  in  San 
Francisco  and  I  shall  never  forget  his  impersonal  demoli- 

^  Delivered  June  19,  1910,  in  Lampson  Lyceum,  Yale  University. 
[429] 


430  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

tion  of  every  argument  against  the  admission  of  the 
Chinese.  The  human  rivalries  of  workmen  were  not 
to  mar  the  comprehensive  chart  of  the  world  studied 
as  a  whole.  To  a  teacher,  fundamental  propositions 
must  not  be  afifected  by  local  color. 

Truth  was  a  world-wide  proposition  founded  on  the 
testimony  of  the  ages,  and  any  community  which  found 
it  useful  to  vary  these  laws  for  purposes  of  revenue, 
growth,  or  government  would  do  so  at  its  peril  and  with 
full  notice. 

And  so  Sumner  convinced  us  and  we  students  scat- 
tered from  New  Haven  and  drifted  where  we  might, 
free-traders  to  the  core  —  and  economically  sure  of  it 
until,  later,  contact  with  the  world  began  to  modify  our 
ideas,  adapting  them  to  the  local  needs  and  condi- 
tions of  some  small  industry  in  which  we  were  trying  to 
survive.  We  found  pure  economics  somewhat  theo- 
retical and  that  many  men  must  be  consulted  as  to  how 
governments  may  obtain  revenue.  In  life  few  can  have 
all  they  ask,  and  we  ventured  occasionally  to  take  a 
liberty  with  a  verity  to  meet  an  exigency,  to  clothe  as 
it  were  a  too  naked  truth. 

The  world  happened  to  be  already  populated  and  must 
be  operated  by  human  beings.  If  we  could  begin  anew 
it  would  be  as  he  said,  and  as  far  and  as  fast  as  possible 
his  laws  must  be  arrived  at,  for  fundamentally  he  was 
always  right.  Live  and  let  live  had  nothing  to  do  with 
truth  as  he  taught  it. 

We  never  forgot  what  he  said  or  how  he  said  it  or  the 
tones  of  his  voice  or  his  gestures.  They  were  stamped 
into  our  minds  by  his  powerful,  incisive  personality  and 
his  rare  gift  of  expression  and  illustration.  He  was  a 
wonderful  teacher  without  the  slightest  unpleasant  ac- 
companiment which  some  teachers  have  with  unwilling 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  431 

students.  Against  our  will  we  became  willing  and 
eager,  and  we  liked  him  and  would  follow  him  wher- 
ever he  led,  and  if  we  wanted  a  cut  we  cut  some  other 
recitation.  Sumner's  was  not  drudgery;  it  was  stimu- 
lation. 

And  he  was  so  extraordinarily  clear  and  practical 
and  nothing  of  the  metaphysician.  He  never  preached 
for  the  sake  of  preaching.  He  was  no  crusader  from 
habit  or  for  effect.  Take  it  or  leave  it,  he  presented 
what  he  knew. 

And  then  the  division  would  be  dismissed  from  the 
class-room,  and  a  remarkable  transformation  take  place. 
This  man  of  iron  would  step  from  the  platform,  the 
atmosphere  still  charged  with  his  electricity,  throw  his 
cape  over  his  shoulders,  and  at  once  become  the  most 
friendly,  kindly,  genial,  generous,  human,  and  sympa- 
thetic of  companions,  the  best  of  good  fellows.  He  was 
only  cast  iron  when  he  was  denouncing  economic  ene- 
mies.    He  had  no  others. 

His  duty  was  to  teach  truth  and  to  lead,  and  never 
was  there  a  more  exalted  teacher  nor  so  valiant  a  leader. 
After  thirty-five  years  we  find  his  truths  chiselled  in  a 
rock  and  we  see  him  now  and  forever  in  clear  outline 
against  the  sky,  high  and  strong  and  true. 


ADDRESS   BY   HENRY  DE  FOREST   BALDWIN, 
YALE,  1885 

When  I  was  an  undergraduate  we  were  lately 
launched  upon  a  new  epoch.  The  world  had  been  as- 
similating Darwin's  "Origin  of  Species"  about  twenty 
years.  The  intellectual  world  was  looking  at  things 
from  a  new  point  of  view.  Tradition  was  less  sacred, 
authority  less  compelling  to  us  than  it  had  been  to  our 
predecessors.  We  revered  and  admired  the  old  men^ 
but  they  did  not  altogether  meet  our  needs.  The  col- 
lege had  not  then  departed  very  far  from  the  old  curric- 
ulum which  characterized  institutions  of  learning  for 
the  three  or  four  previous  centuries.  From  all  I  can 
learn,  there  has  been  more  change  in  the  college 
curriculum  from  1880  to  the  present  time  than  took 
place  from  the  foundation  of  the  college  to  the  time 
when  I  entered  it.  We  were  looking  for  a  teacher 
who  we  felt  could  free  himself  from  the  old  ways  of 
thought,  and  whom  we  could  rely  upon  to  speak  boldly, 
honestly,  and  clearly  from  the  new  point  of  view.  We 
found  our  intellectual  leader  in  Sumner.  He  did  not 
appear  to  be  afraid  of  talking  over  our  heads.  We 
felt  he  was  giving  the  best  he  had  to  give,  and  that 
he  believed  what  he  taught.  We  knew  he  was  devot- 
ing his  great  talents  to  us  and  had  stores  of  wealth  to 
give  us,  if  we  chose  to  listen  to  him.  As  a  scholar  he 
asked  no  quarter  from  an  antagonist.  As  a  teacher  he 
did  not  ask  blind  acceptance  of  his  ideas  from  his 
pupils.  He  stated  his  views  without  any  concessions 
to  make  them  acceptable  to  his  hearers  and  without 

14321 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  433 

any  attempt  to  hide  a  weak  spot.  His  method  of 
teaching  called  for  an  exercise  of  his  pupils'  critical 
capacity. 

He  had  a  striking  way  of  putting  things  which  made 
them  stick.  I  remember  once  there  was  under  dis- 
cussion the  subject  of  socialism.  In  dismissing  the 
class  Sumner  said:  *'If  any  of  you  are  ever  in  a  com- 
munity where  a  committee  runs  the  whole  thing,  take 
my  advice  and  get  on  the  committee."  Nearly  twenty- 
five  years  afterward  I  was  sitting  in  Cooper  Union, 
New  York,  enjoying  the  interesting  experience  of 
hearing  a  prospective  candidate  for  President  of  the 
United  States  questioned  by  an  audience  politically, 
although  not  personally,  hostile  to  him.  He  was 
asked  some  question  about  socialism,  and  he  replied 
that  he  did  not  know  very  much  about  it;  that  he 
had  read  a  book  on  it  and  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  involved  having  everything  run  by  a  committee, 
and  that  he  preferred  not  to  live  in  a  community  where  a 
committee  ran  the  whole  thing  —  unless  he  were  on 
the  committee.  I  then  realized  that  Professor  Sumner 
had  repeated  himself  at  least  once,  and  that  the  result 
of  his  teaching  had  not  been  entirely  lost,  even  though 
it  had  not  made  a  democrat  of  this  distinguished 
Yale  graduate. 

I  hear  it  said  that  many  economists  question  some 
of  Sumner's  conclusions.  I  do  not  care  very  much 
how  you  professional  economists  now  look  upon  his 
views  of  the  wage-fund  theory  or  of  any  other  particular 
economic  problem.  I  do  not  mean  to  imply,  by  that, 
that  it  is  not  important  that  such  questions  should  be 
thought  out  right.  But  I  am  sure  that  the  most  im- 
portant thing  we  got  from  Professor  Sumner  did  not 
lie  wholly  within  the  limits  of  the  particular  subject 


4S4  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

he  was  teaching  us.  He  gave  us  a  point  of  view  with 
respect  to  the  individual's  place  in  the  political  and 
industrial  community.  He  warned  us  to  allow  for 
bias.  He  implanted  in  us  certain  fundamental  notions 
which  I  for  my  part  have  never  been  able  to  get  away 
from.  A  few  years  ago  I  came  across  in  a  lady's  drawing- 
room  his  great  work  on  "Folkways."  I  read  it  with 
delight,  not  only  for  what  it  gave  me  that  was  new, 
but  also  for  what  I  found  in  it  that  awakened  old  memo- 
ries. I  continually  ran  across  various  expressions  and 
thoughts  which  I  recognized  as  old  friends;  thoughts 
which  had  influenced  my  whole  intellectual  life;  in 
many  cases  thoughts  of  which  I  had  forgotten  the 
source  and  had,  perhaps,  foolishly  believed  them  to  be 
the  result  of  my  own  reflection.  I  realized  then  more 
than  ever  before  what  an  influence  Sumner  had  been 
in  my  life. 

While  I  was  an  undergraduate,  there  was  going  on 
in  the  country  a  trend  toward  the  democratic  party. 
Sumner's  sledge-hammer  blows  in  the  cause  of  free 
trade  and  sound  money,  as  well  as  his  general  treatment 
of  economic  subjects,  were  a  powerful  influence  in  that 
direction.  His  advocacy  of  the  causes  which  so  many 
younger  men  hoped  the  democratic  party  would 
represent  added  interest  in  his  personality  and  made 
him  to  a  greater  extent  the  subject  of  discussion.  It 
also  led  some  of  those  who  came  from  stalwart  repub- 
lican homes  to  withhold  themselves,  to  a  certain  extent, 
from  the  full  benefit  they  might  have  received  from 
his  leadership;  for  the  normal  man  holds  his  politics 
like  his  religion,  and  treats  with  suspicion  any  one 
who  undertakes  to  subject  them  to  intelligent  ex- 
amination. A  few  of  these  obtained  the  attendance 
of  a  Pennsylvania  professor  to  deliver  a  lecture  or  lee- 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  435 

tures  on  protectionism.  This  turned  out  to  be  a  good 
thing,  for  the  contrast  was  marked. 

But  Sumner's  influence  on  the  tariff  and  sound  money 
was  not  confined  to  undergraduates.  The  New  York 
Free  Trade  Club,  and  later  its  successor,  the  Reform 
Club,  which  for  many  years  constituted  the  center  of 
agitation  against  protectionism,  were  largely  domi- 
nated by  men  who  had  come  under  his  teaching  and 
influence  in  one  way  or  another. 

The  absence  of  the  qualities  which  make  the  success- 
ful politician  was  as  marked  in  Sumner  as  was  the  pres- 
ence of  those  qualities  which  make  the  scientific  man 
and  teacher.  When  men  seek  to  attain  political  ends 
they  necessarily  look  for  allies;  and  if  they  are  opposed 
to  those  in  power  they  cast  their  eyes  on  the  discon- 
tented, the  unsuccessful  under  the  present  regime,  and 
bid  for  their  support  by  offering  what  they  believe 
will  prove  attractive.  Political  affairs  are  necessarily 
a  series  of  compromises.  The  need  of  allies  to  make  a 
majority  prevents  logical  progress,  and  in  political  life 
an  old  evil  is  rarely  eradicated  without  the  planting  of 
some  seeds  of  a  new  evil.  The  politician  must  be  a 
compromiser.  Sumner  was  no  compromiser.  I  heard 
him  once  speak  of  himself  as  a  popular  agitator;  but 
his  agitation  consisted  in  pointing  out  to  his  fellow- 
citizens  the  folly  of  what  they  were  doing.  I  do  not 
believe  he  ever  undertook  to  tell  them  what  they  should 
do.  He  never  set  up  to  be  a  statesman.  Certainly  he 
never  attempted  the  politician's  role,  which  is  quite  apt 
to  be  to  point  out  to  a  part  of  the  people  how  they  can 
collect  some  unearned  advantage  from  another  part  of 
the  people. 

Sumner  continually  called  attention  to  the  difference 
between  the  task  of  the  political  economist  and  patient 


436  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

student  of  the  industrial  and  social  consequences  of 
certain  courses  of  conduct,  and  the  task  of  the  states- 
man. He  used  to  insist  that  there  is  no  "ought"  in 
political  economy;  that  it  is  neither  the  study  of  the 
question  of  Christian  charity,  nor  of  morals,  nor  of 
statesmanship.  These  other  subjects  are  well  worthy 
of  study,  but  he  could  see  no  gain  in  mixing  them  with 
the  study  of  political  economy.  There  flourished  during 
his  time  many  statesmen  who  believed  themselves 
possessed  of  some  happy  thought  which,  if  put  into 
operation  by  legislation,  would  ameliorate  the  lot  of 
mankind  and  change  our  social  condition.  There  were 
also  men  calling  themselves  political  economists  who 
believed  they  saw  the  one  thing  needful  as  a  cure  for  all 
poverty,  discontent,  and  unhappiness.  These  he  called 
"Prophets."  Such  people  have  always  been  assured 
of  a  following.  Our  great  political  parties  have  often 
been  dominated  by  their  ideas.  Sometimes  we  hear 
that  probably  our  national  existence  or,  anyway,  our 
prosperity,  is  due  entirely  to  the  beneficent  operation 
of  the  protective  tariff,  and  to  perpetuate  it  was  jus- 
tification enough  for  saddling  the  country  with  the 
demoralizing,  not  to  say  expensive,  pension  system. 
Again,  we  hear  that  all  will  go  well  if  the  government 
will  only  give  us  the  blessings  of  free  silver  coinage,  or 
government  ownership  of  railroads,  or  prohibition  of 
the  traflBc  in  liquor.  Against  all  such  short  cuts  to 
welfare  Sumner  poured  out  his  scorn.  He  had  no 
place  in  such  company.  He  laid  the  emphasis  not  on 
what  the  state  or  the  individual  ought  to  do,  but  upon 
the  need  of  a  careful  inquiry  into  the  consequences  for 
the  community  and  individuals  of  proposed  actions 
however  well-intended. 

There   is   frequently    drawn   a   distinction   between 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  437 

democrats  and  "real  democrats,"  or,  as  it  is  sometimes 
phrased,  "democratic  democrats."  Sumner  was  a 
real  democrat,  a  real  apostle  of  democracy.  But  it 
was  not  in  a  party  sense  of  the  word  that  he  was  a 
democrat.  He  had  faith  in  the  possibilities  of  a  true 
democracy,  —  as  he  expressed  it,  a  society  based  on 
contract  as  distinguished  from  a  society  based  on 
status.  His  democracy  was  of  the  kind  that  asked 
for  each  man  a  fair  field  and  no  favor.  He  would  let 
the  individual  reap  where  he  had  sown,  and  suffer  for 
his  own  vices,  slothfulness,  or  stupidity.  He  was 
against  privilege  as  wrong  economically,  as  wrong 
morally,  as  against  justice,  against  progress,  against 
human  welfare,  and  against  civilization.  He  was  as 
much  opposed  to  those  who  would  array  the  House  of 
Want  against  the  House  of  Have  as  he  was  against  the 
beneficiaries  of  a  protective  tariff.  He  pointed  out  that 
"the  real  danger  of  democracy  is  that  the  classes  which 
have  the  power  under  it  will  assume  all  the  rights  and 
reject  all  the  duties  —  that  is,  they  will  use  the  power 
to  plunder  those  who  have,"  and  he  could  see  no  differ- 
ence between  the  poor  plundering  the  rich  and  the 
rich  plundering  the  poor. 

If,  as  is  sometimes  said,  faith  in  democracy  is  waning, 
it  is  doubtless  due  to  our  failure  to  be  true  to  the 
democratic  principles  of  equality  and  liberty.  Sumner 
tersely  and  vigorously  pointed  out  wherein  that  failure 
consists.  He  strove  against  the  two  strongest  tend- 
encies which  have  undermined  our  democratic  faith  — 
protectionism  which  has  created  a  privileged  class  among 
the  wealthy,  and  humanitarian  social  theories  which 
would  create  a  privileged  class  among  workingmen  and 
among  the  lowly  and  poor.  He  scornfully  says  that 
A  and  B,  the  reformers  and  the  philanthropists,  under- 


438  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

take  to  decide  what  C  shall  do  for  D,  D  standing  for 
the  poor  man  and  C,  for  the  Forgotten  Man,  the  man 
who  pays.  He  saw  the  great  net  gain  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  ancient  privileges  of  the  old  classes  of 
society.  He  combated  the  tendency  to  fasten  upon 
our  social  institutions  new  privileges  which  must  in- 
evitably create  new  classes.  The  European  aristoc- 
racies always  recognized  some  duties  attached  to  their 
privileges  by  immemorial  tradition  and  custom.  The 
privileged  classes  which  we  are  creating  have  no  tradi- 
tions and  recognize  no  absorbing  personal  duties  to 
society.  They  are  as  self-centered  as  corporations. 
Sometime  this  country  may  wake  up  and  realize  that 
the  things  Sumner  specifically  attacked  —  protection- 
ism, trades-unionism,  and  the  doctrine  that  it  is  be- 
neficent to  devise  means  to  distribute  among  the  poor 
the  proceeds  of  taxes  collected  from  the  rich  —  per- 
petuate the  same  kind  of  injustice  and  inequality  which 
characterized  the  feudal  system  and  constitute  the 
great  dangers  to  democratic  institutions.  K,  ulti- 
mately, the  people  of  this  country  renounce  the  tempta- 
tion to  establish  privileged  classes  as  a  part  of  our 
political  and  industrial  policy,  we  shall  owe  a  great  debt 
to  Sumner,  who  led,  away  in  advance,  against  such 
tendencies. 

In  the  comments  that  have  been  made  since  Professor 
Sumner's  death,  I  have  seemed  to  feel  a  suggestion 
that  in  his  last  years  he  felt  some  disappointment  that 
he  had  not  observed  more  tangible  results  in  our 
national  policy  of  his  vigorous  teaching.  I  cannot  but 
believe  that  this  has  been  assumed  as  something  that 
might  be  the  case  rather  than  an  impression  gained 
by  those  intimate  with  him.  His  self-imposed  role 
was  that  of  a  critic  who  called  attention  to  the  need  of 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  439 

subjecting  plans  for  political  and  social  amelioration 
to  scrutiny  and  investigation.  It  involved  a  life- time 
of  running  counter  to  popular  tendencies.  The  man 
who  adopts  this  course  can  never  expect  to  attain  a 
popular  following  such  as  comes  to  the  man  who  advo- 
cates a  happy  thought  which  is  believed  to  lead  to 
prosperity  and  contentment.  He  attacked  privilege, 
and  naturally  the  Interests  tried  to  destroy  him.  He 
told  his  contemporaries  they  were  pursuing  false  and 
wasteful  methods.  They  disliked  to  listen  to  him. 
When  the  whole  country  was  laboring  under  delusions 
with  respect  to  protectionism  and  bimetallism,  he  stood 
boldly  for  free  trade  and  sound  money.  He  turned  not 
aside  to  ride  on  the  wave,  but  headed  straight  for  his 
mark,  sturdily  stemming  wind  and  tide,  and  no  one 
better  than  he  knew  that  he  could  not  expect  popular 
applause,  or  better  realized  that  his  achievements 
could  not  be  measured  in  the  coin  with  which  the 
politician  or  the  demagogue  is  paid.  Like  most  philos- 
ophers who  are  not  more  politicians  than  philosophers, 
he  must  wait  for  the  full  results  of  his  efforts  from  the 
work  of  his  many  pupils  whom  he  started  upon  courses 
of  correct  thinking.  The  seeds  he  planted  by  his  long 
years  of  teaching  and  by  his  writings  we  may  hopefully 
expect  to  bear  a  substantial  fruit  in  the  strenuous 
times  we  must  all  anticipate  in  the  immediate  future. 
As  was  said  of  Socrates,  he  was  more  useful  in  devoting 
his  energies  to  teaching  the  youth  than  if  he  had  tried 
to  rule  the  state. 

It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  the  strongest  advocates 
of  Sumner's  political  philosophy  will  soon  be  found 
among  the  very  class  which  looked  upon  him  as  its 
enemy  when  he  denounced  protectionism. 


ADDRESS  BY  ALBERT  GALLOWAY  KELLER, 
YALE,   1896 

Great  in  council  and  great  in  war,  .  .  . 

Rich  in  saving  common-sense. 

And,  as  the  greatest  only  are. 

In  his  simplicity  sublime.   .   .   . 

O  voice  from  which  their  omens  all  men  drew, 

O  iron  nerve  to  true  occasion  true, 

O  fall'n  at  length  that  tower  of  strength 

Which  stood  four-square  to  all  the  winds  that  blew! 

The  loss  which  Yale  has  suffered  in  the  retirement 
and  death  of  Professor  Sumner  is  one  which  no  one  of 
his  colleagues  can  contemplate  without  a  sinking  of 
heart.  We  have  needed  him  all  this  year;  we  could 
face  our  crises  of  the  future  with  more  of  equanimity  if 
his  presence  supported  us.  For  almost  forty  years 
Yale  has  had  the  devoted  service  of  a  great  man  and, 
what  is  more,  of  a  natural  leader  of  men;  his  strongly 
molding  hand  has  shaped  to  an  extraordinary  degree 
the  destiny  of  the  academic  world  in  which  it  fell  to  him 
to  live  and  work.  We  younger  men  are  told  that  at  a 
crisis  the  leadership  has  been  wont  to  creep  into  his 
hand  as  by  some  inherent  urge.  Such  men  are  rare  in 
academic  circles  and  our  sense  of  loss  is  correspondingly 
heavy.  It  is  what  we  pay  for  having  had  him  —  and 
the  price  is  not  too  great.  Yale  could  not  have  become 
what  she  now  is  if  he  had  not  been  hers;  all  of  us  should 
rejoice  that  Sumner  lived  and  labored  here.     It  should 

[440] 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  441 

be  our  object  in  this  memorial  meeting  to  strive  to  tem- 
per our  sense  of  loss  by  recalling  what  he  was  and  what 
he  did  for  Yale  and  for  us  all.  Sumner's  great  intellect 
and  his  loyal  love  have  been  built  into  the  structure  of 
Yale  just  as  his  mind  and  character  have  entered  into 
the  formation  of  what  we  call  the  Yale  type  of  man; 
and  just  as  his  ideas  have  gone  to  constitute  many  a 
block  (perhaps  unlabelled)  in  the  framework  of  the 
social  sciences. 

Sumner  would  have  been  the  last  man  to  admit  the 
truth  of  what  I  have  just  said,  though  I  fear  no  contra- 
diction in  the  saying  of  it;  for  he  was  a  very  humble 
man  and  esteemed  his  services  very  lightly.  He  took 
no  pains  to  attach  his  initials  to  the  work  he  did;  and  I 
firmly  believe  that  the  grand  ovation  of  last  June,  and 
the  many  cordial  letters  that  came  to  him  last  summer 
were  a  great  and  touching  surprise  to  him.  He  told  me 
that  he  was  moved  to  tears  as  he  stood  on  the  Commence- 
ment platform,  and  added  that  the  world  was  treating 
him  very  well.  So,  I  say,  he  would  have  set  aside  what 
I  have  said  of  his  abiding  influence  on  Yale  and  Yale 
men  and  science.  But  it  is  the  unseen  things  that  are 
eternal.  They  may  be  unidentifiable  in  their  details; 
they  may  be  impersonal  —  but  therein  is  revealed  their 
kinship  with  what  is  elemental. 

However,  not  everything  that  is  "seen"  is  bereft  of 
lasting  memory;  it  is  part  of  our  purpose  in  being  here 
to-day  to  recall  those  more  definite  temporal  things 
about  which  human  affections  twine  more  tightly,  per- 
haps, and  upon  which  the  memory  rests  more  tenderly, 
than  could  be  the  case  with  influences  of  a  more  general 
nature.  If  we  are  talking  of  claims  to  immortality, 
what  more  cogent  claim  can  be  set  up  than  the  abiding 
and  indefinitely  fructifying  influence  of  a  powerful  and 


442  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

deep-hearted  personality?  To-day  we  are  recalling  the 
splendidly  human  Sumner,  and  it  is  my  privilege,  as  a 
younger  man  and  colleague,  to  speak  of  his  life  and  work 
during  his  latter  years. 

It  is  here  that  we  younger  men  are  met  by  the  insis- 
tent pity  of  our  elders  who  reiterate  that  we  did  not 
know  the  real  Sumner —  him  of  the  pitched  battle  —  the 
Sumner  who  found  ordinary  prose  too  feeble  a  me- 
dium to  express  his  views    about  "the  ism  which 

teaches  that  waste  makes  wealth,"  and  so  broke  through 
into  that  truly  classic  dialogue  between  the  discoverer 
of  natural  resources  and  the  Congressman.  "Where," 
they  ask  us,  "is  the  latter-day  creation  fit  to  stand  be- 
side The  Forgotten  Man?"  To  this  friendly  patronage 
the  answer  of  the  younger  generation  might  be:  "We 
envy  you  your  experiences  with  the  younger  Sunmer. 
•It  must  have  been  wonderful  to  see  him  in  Jtris  prime. 
But  you  do  not  cause  us  to  regret  that  we  came  later. 
We  cannot  conceive  that  that  earlier  stage  could  have 
matched  the  ripe  wisdom  and  sagacity,  the  comprehen- 
siveness and  perspective  of  Sumner's  later  phase.  Splen- 
did as  Sumner's  political  economy  may  have  been,  it 
was  but  a  preliminary  study  to  his  science  of  society; 
compelling  as  was  his  sympathetic  sketch  of  the  type 
of  man  who  minds  his  own  business,  it  was  but  a  detail 
in  comparison  with  his  treatise  on  the  matrix  of  human 
institutions  in  general  —  "The  Folkways." 

In  these  later  years,  Sumner's  personality  was  dis- 
closed to  us,  in  contra-distinction  perhaps  to  the  experi- 
ence of  our  predecessors,  not  so  much  (so  to  speak)  in 
"severalty"  as  collectively  or  communally.  We  did 
not  recite  to  him,  —  there  was  no  give-and-take  with 
its  abrasions,  often  remembered  with  peculiar  delight, 
and  its  beneficent  blood-lettings.     Sumner  lectured  to 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  443 

us;  but  there  was  no  foolishness  about  it.  We  were 
ruled  from  the  revolving  chair  in  Osborn  Hall  as  if  we 
were  a  division  of  twenty  instead  of  one  many  times 
that  number.  We  daily  made  haste  to  transcribe,  in 
the  few  moments  he  gave,  our  most  intimate  thoughts 
on  the  "lesson  of  the  day."  After  a  few  awe-inspiring 
cases  of  confiscation,  we  brought  no  more  newspapers  — 
his  pet  aversion  —  into  the  lecture-room.  When  the 
daily  tests  had  been  collected,  Sumner  lectured  the  rest 
of  the  hour;  and  the  sensation  was  to  us  as  of  the  open- 
ing of  long  and  orderly  vistas.  What  we  had  learned 
unintelligently  seemed  to  fall  into  its  natural  and  inevi- 
table sequence  with  the  obvious  realities  of  life.  In 
short,  though  the  term  *' personality"  is  a  trite  one,  we 
felt  the  force  of  a  personality  so  dauntless  and  domi- 
nant that  there  was  no  escape  or  evasion. 

It  is  perhaps  futile  to  attempt  to  analyze  the  impres- 
sion Sumner  made  upon  us.  Someone  has  well  said 
that  he  possessed  an  incomparable  combination  of  man- 
ner, matter,  and  method;  but  for  many  of  us  at  least 
the  compelling  influence  lay  outside  the  matter;  and 
Sumner  never  held  very  much  to  conscious  method. 
One  who  reads  over  his  old  note-book  on  the  Science  of 
Society  sometimes  cannot  see  just  why  the  course  laid 
hold  of  him  so  strongly;  but  then  he  closes  his  eyes  and 
recalls  the  manner  of  presentation  —  the  long  forefinger 
uplifted,  the  authority  of  a  face  whose  very  ruggedness 
was  not  a  matter  of  lines  without,  but  rather  of  straight- 
ness,  of  undeviating  and  uncompromising  honesty  and 
sincerity  within  —  and  the  spirit  re-enters  the  dull  and 
boyish  pencillings,  and  all  is  explained.  That  was  why 
he  compelled  us  to  think,  to  accept  or  to  resist,  it 
mattered  not  which;  no  "copious  shufl3er,"  no  half- 
scholar,  no  shirk  or  mere  pleasure-lover,  no  man  who 


444  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

had  not  grappled  with  the  grimnesses  of  thought,  could 
thus,  apparently  without  conscious  eflFort,  have  com- 
pelled our  intellectual  homage.  One  reflects  upon  his 
old  note-book  again,  and  presently  he  sees  that  there 
was  yet  something  more  in  the  case  —  call  it  method, 
if  one  will,  it  was  yet  a  living  demonstration  of  the 
method  being  the  man  —  and  that  was  the  simplicity 
always  characteristic  of  Sumner  and  his  work.  No 
long  words  where  a  short  one  could  be  found,  and  no 
wastefulness  even  of  the  monosyllables;  crisp,  curt 
sentences  as  devoid  as  possible  of  latinity;  no  ideas  so 
lofty  and  tenuous  as  to  be  incapable  of  full  compre- 
hension by  the  normal,  healthy,  youthful  mind.  The 
intellectual  draught  he  reached  us  was  so  clear  in  its 
quality  that  sometimes,  in  retrospect,  it  looks  as  if  there 
were  nothing  there  at  all.  The  ideas  in  the  old  notes 
seem  so  familiar  as  to  be  almost  axiomatic;  and  yet,  if 
we  reflect  upon  them,  we  realize  that  they  came  to  us 
first  from  Sumner  and  that  they  are  in  our  notes  be- 
cause we  hurried  to  get  them  down  as  being  so  new  and 
grand  to  our  youthful  minds.  Now  they  are  part  of 
us;  for  Sumner  is  living  in  us  all  and  in  those  whom  we 
shall  influence,  as  he  is  living  in  this  college,  in  whose 
service  he  found  no  labor  too  great  —  nor  yet  too 
small.  He  disciplined  us  and  chastised  us,  and  we 
return  thanks  for  it;  he  opened  our  minds,  taught  us 
to  detect  and  hate  humbug,  to  trust  to  the  truth,  and 
to  be  faithful  to  duty  —  and  for  that  we  tender  him  our 
enduring  reverence.  The  simple  fidelity  of  a  power- 
ful man  is  an  abiding  treasure  of  remembrance,  and  a 
bracing  one. 

But  I  am  privileged  in  being  able  to  speak  of  Sumner 
as  I  could  not  have  spoken  if  I  had  not  remained  at 
Yale  and  been  closely  associated  with  him  for  some 


MEMORL\L  ADDRESSES  445 

years.  Perhaps  the  most  impressive  thing  about  the 
man  is  that  one  straightway  forgets  his  intellect  and 
work  when  one  is  led  to  contemplate  the  union  of  aus- 
terity and  tenderness  which  made  up  his  character.  If 
he  has  any  enemies  now  living  I  am  sure  they  would  all 
agree  that,  for  a  mortal  man,  Sumner  had  about  him 
nothing  that  was  small.  To  those  who  knew  him  well 
it  seemed  that  he  must  possess  an  almost  intuitive  sense 
of  rectitude;  for  as  his  unrivalled  mental  acumen  and 
common  sense  were  wont  to  pierce  so  keenly  the  husks 
that  surrounded  any  intellectual  issue  and  to  adjudge 
it  according  to  its  merits  in  its  more  than  local  setting, 
in  like  manner  did  his  delicate  sensitiveness  to  the 
quality  of  a  moral  issue  serve  as  a  sort  of  touchstone 
for  those  privileged  to  know  him  well.  One  man  brought 
close  to  him  in  the  physical  weakness  of  his  latest  years 
has  said  that  he  had  never  known  a  woman  with  finer 
feeling.  Nothing  mean  or  low  could  thrive  in  his  pres- 
ence. But  the  steel  of  his  character  was  not  so  delicate 
as  to  snap  or  to  lose  its  cutting  edge  in  the  rudest  of 
combats;  he  was  "great  in  war."  Sensitive  of  soul  and 
strong  of  heart,  his  voice  was  one  "from  which  their 
omens  all  men  drew." 

But  I  turn  to  the  actual  labors  of  the  latter  years. 
Some  people  have  believed  that  when  Sumner  retired 
from  the  field  of  political  economy,  his  career  was  thus 
practically  closed.  No  greater  misapprehension  could 
exist.  From  the  outset,  Sumner's  interests  were  never 
confined  to  political  economy  ^ ;  there  is  now  in  the  Uni- 
versity a  professor  of  prominence  in  another  line  who 
has  told  us  that  way  back  in  the  seventies  Sumner  came 

*  These  volumes  of  essays  present  an  abundance  of  evidence  bearing  on 
this  contention,  with  which  the  author  of  this  address  was  not  acquainted  in 
1910.— The  Editor. 


446  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

near  to  making  an  anthropologist  out  of  him.  When 
Sumner  left  political  economy  to  others  he  freed  himself 
to  pursue  his  life-interest,  awakened  first  by  Herbert 
Spencer,  in  the  science  of  society  (or  sociology,  in  the 
Spencerian  sense  of  the  term).  His  achievements  in 
political  economy  were  of  a  nature  to  secure  wide  repute, 
and  his  only  public  utterances  of  note  during  the  ten  or 
twelve  years  succeeding  his  withdrawal  from  political 
economy  gave  no  special  warning  that  the  mode  of  his 
activity  had  changed.  The  last  fifteen  or  more  years 
of  his  life  were  divided  between  the  classroom  and  the 
study,  and  it  was  only  with  the  publication  of  "Folk- 
ways" that  the  results  of  his  last  and  richest  period 
began  to  appear. 

In  1899  Sumner  began  to  write  what  would  have  been 
his  magnum  opus  on  the  Science  of  Society;  and  he  had 
written  a  very  considerable  mass  of  manuscript,  when 
it  began  to  be  borne  in  upon  him  that  there  underlay 
his  whole  conception  of  the  evolution  and  life  of  human 
society  a  certain  unifying  and  basic  idea — and  that  this 
must  be  developed  before  the  main  treatise  should  be 
pushed  to  completion.  In  tracing  the  evolution  of  the 
several  social  forms  (the  industrial  organization,  marriage 
and  the  family,  religion,  government,  and  so  on)  he  had 
observed  that  they  all  went  back  to  an  origin  in  popular 
habit  and  custom;  that  these  conventions  and  habitudes 
formed  the  "prosperity-policy"  of  the  society  practicing 
them;  that  they  exercised  a  coercion  upon  the  individual 
to  conform  to  them,  though  they  were  not  codified  by 
any  authority  —  though  their  origin  was  lost  in  the 
mystery  of  the  far  past.  He  saw  that  some  explanation 
of  the  nature  of  these  "folkways"  formed  for  him  the 
indispensable  preliminary  to  the  analysis  of  the  various 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  447 

forms  of  the  societal  institutions  which  came  out  of 
them.  And  so  he  set  the  bulky  first  manuscript  of  his 
Science  of  Society  aside  and  devoted  many  months  to 
laying  bare  the  rock  upon  which  he  planned  to  build  a 
science  of  society  or  sociology  that  should  not  be,  as 
much  so-called  sociology  is,  a  by-word  and  an  object  of 
merriment  to  scientists  in  other  fields.  This  was  the 
origin  of  that  notable  book  of  1907  concerning  whose 
grave  importance  to  all  succeeding  scientific  study  of 
human  society  there  can  be  no  two  opinions.  Since  the 
publication  of  "Folkways,"  in  whose  preface  Sumner  an- 
nounced his  forthcoming  Sociology,  the  eyes  of  all  social 
scientists,  and  of  many  others,  have  been  turned  toward 
the  aging  savant  with  feelings  of  anticipation  and  of  im- 
patience. With  the  personal  grief  over  his  loss  there 
has  been  mingled  not  a  little  of  professional  chagrin 
over  the  fact  that  the  book  of  his  life  had  not  been  com- 
pleted. But  it  does  not  lie  in  the  intentions  of  those 
who  were  near  to  him  either  that  he  shall  be  deprived 
of  the  scholarly  renown  which  is  rightly  his,  or  that  a 
science  upon  which  all  too  many  cranks  and  weaklings 
have  wreaked  their  insidious  vocabularies  and  vatici- 
nations shall  be  robbed  of  the  support  of  one  whose 
common  sense  and  hard-headedness  were  sufficiently 
developed  to  balance  off  a  praetorian  cohort  of  the 
feeble-minded. 

For  a  younger  scholar  and  colleague,  association  with 
Sumner  during  these  last  years  has  been  the  experience 
of  a  life-time.  The  beginnings  of  special  study  with  him 
were  not  fraught  with  any  very  perceptible  modicum 
of  care-free  browsing  along  rose-scented  paths  of  learn- 
ing. He  was  the  most  discouraging  of  men  until  some 
purpose  and  much  industry  had  been  disclosed.     He 


448  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

rowed  the  would-be  swimmer  out  into  the  open  sea,  put 
him  over  head-first,  and  then  pulled  for  shore  without 
looking  back,  or  at  least  without  letting  us  see  him  do 
so.  Demanding  so  much  of  himself  he  carried  over  the 
demand  to  his  charges  —  he  himself  had  learned  since 
middle  age  eight  European  languages  in  addition  to  the 
Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  French,  and  German  which  he 
already  possessed.  Respecting  the  method  of  acquiring 
a  reading  knowledge  of  some  out-of-the-way  language  he 
used  to  say  briefly:  "The  way  to  learn  a  language  is  to 
sit  down  and  learn  it."  He  drove  us  on  with  resolute 
hand,  and  we  did  not  always  realize  that  his  stress  was 
nicely  gauged  for  the  particular  stage  of  greenness  and 
foolishness  through  which  we  chanced  to  be  passing. 

But  the  man  grew  upon  us,  and  the  wisdom  and  jus- 
tice of  his  demands  became  ever  more  apparent.  How 
could  we  resist  the  wealth  of  sense  in  his  three  queries 
about  a  piece  of  work:  What  is  it.''  How  do  you  know 
it.'*  What  of  it?  He  was  intolerant  of  the  man  who 
could  not  say  what  he  had  in  mind,  clearly  and  plainly, 
for  he  thought  involutions  and  vagueness  betokened 
lack  of  accurate  understanding;  he  had  no  use  for  the 
man  who  knew,  but  didn't  know  why  he  knew;  but 
above  all  he  abhorred  random  fumbhng  over  matters 
that  seemed  to  him  to  have  no  relation  to  the  vital 
issues  of  life,  or  to  be  by  their  nature  not  susceptible 
of  scientific  investigation.  Let  those  who  are  familiar 
with  academic  production  say  whether  that  question: 
What  of  it.'*  is  not  eternally  pertinent! 

Now  all  this  looks  very  hard  and  stern,  and  it  often 
seemed  so;  but  it  was  a  nipping  and  an  eager  air  that 
swept  the  intellectual  heights  which  Sumner  frequented. 
K  you  took  him  for  your  guide  there  could  be  no  lagging; 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESSES  449 

and  above  all  there  must  be  no  whining,  for  he  could 
stand  almost  anything  else  rather  than  that.  He  did 
not  wish  you  to  take  even  your  legitimate  castigation 
from  his  own  hand,  lying  down.  But  presently  those  of 
us  who  emerged  from  the  ordeal  found  a  metamorpho- 
sis in  our  relations;  instead  of  the  austere,  uncompro- 
mising propulsion  we  found  an  indulgent,  unassum- 
ing, loyal,  warm-hearted  friendship.  The  fellowship  of 
learning  took  on  for  us  a  new  meaning  when  we  found 
this  great  scholar,  for  whose  power  and  erudition  we  had 
so  profound  an  awe,  assuming  that  we  were  all  on  a  par 
and  taking  us  into  his  confidence  and  listening  to  our 
views  as  if  they  were  really  worth  anything.  We  now 
see  how  he  overlooked  our  lapses  into  foolishness,  even 
when  it  meant  boredom  for  him,  as  it  often  did.  And 
then  came  the  time  when  his  interest  reached  out  and  he 
took  within  his  ample  affections  those  who  were  near 
and  dear  to  us.  Indeed  it  has  seemed  to  us  sometimes 
as  if  the  focus  of  his  interest  had  moved  over  to  the 
younger  generation,  for  Sumner's  love  of  children  was 
almost  a  passion  in  his  later  years.  The  orator  at  the 
last  Commencement  said  splendidly  of  Sumner:  **His 
intellect  has  broadened,  his  heart  has  mellowed,  as  he 
has  descended  into  the  vale  of  years."  But  I  do  not 
know  that  one  could  subscribe  entirely  to  that  second 
clause.  A  heart  so  great  and  warm  and  human  as  that 
which  Sumner  revealed  cannot  be  of  any  place  or  time 
or  age;  it  must  have  been  there  from  the  beginning. 
All  this  gentleness  was  present  while  yet  the  joy  of 
battle  had  not  cooled.  His  was  a  Roman  soul  among 
us,  and  its  essence  was  strength.  Strong  in  mind, 
strong  in  will,  strong  in  sentiment  —  a  big,  strong,  hu- 
man, soul.     Yale  and  Yale  men  are  rich  in  his  life.     We 


450  THE  CHALLENGE  OF  FACTS 

have  had  Sumner  and  shall  always  have  him.  We  all 
need  this  thought  to  temper  the  sense  of  his  loss  and  the 
concern  for  a  future  without  him.  His  service  will  be 
more  deeply  missed  and  valued  as  time  passes. 

O  fall'n  at  length  that  tower  of  strength 

Which  stood  four-square  to  all  the  winds  that  blew  ! 


Date  Due                    i 

FEB     8 

1977 

RECD 

-EB      7  197' 

> 

PRINTED  IN  U.S.*.            CAT.   NO.   24    161               {**f 

A     000  511  567     0 


